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sell  it  only  at  retail  and  at  fifty  cents  per  copy,  and  with  the  express 
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THE  AUTHORS  AND  NEWSPAPERS  ASSOCIATION 


KATE   MEREDITH, 
FINANCIER 


OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY,  LOS  ANGELES 


They  explained  in  bold,  clear  tones  that  they  were  the  chief 
ju-ju  men  of  all  Africa.     Page  224. 


Kate  Meredith 

FINANCIER 


By 

I      r  if^    UD\<\.  H 

C.  J.  CUTCLIFFE   HYNE 

Author  of 

"Captain  Kettle,  K.C.B.,"  "McTodd," 

"The  Filibuster,"  "Adventures  of  Captain  Kettle,' 

"The  Trials  of  Commander  McTurk." 

Illustrated  in  Water-Colors  by  FRANK  PARKER 

Copyright,  1906,  by  C.  J.  Cutcliffe  Hyne 


A.  HAMBURGER   &   SONS,  INC., 

SPECIAL   EDITION, 

LOS   ANGELES,  CAL. 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

THE  AUTHORS  AND   NEWSPAPERS  ASSOCIATION 
1906 


Copyright  7906  by  C.  J.  Cutdiffe  Hynt 
Entered  at  Stationers'  Hall 


All  rights  reserved 


Composition  and  Electrotyplng  b» 

J.  J.  Little  &  Co. 

Printed  and  bound  by  the 

Plimpton  Press,  Norwood,  Mass. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTEB  PAGE 

I.     A  WEST  COAST  WELCOME 7 

II.     INTRODUCES  Miss  LAURA  SLADE 20 

III.  THE  KING  WHO  STOPPED  THE  ROADS       ....     34 

IV.  THE  BEACH  BY  MOONLIGHT 52 

V.     EVENTS  AT  MALLA-NULLA 61 

VI.    THE  COMING  OF  THE  OKKY-MEN 72 

VII.    THE  INVISIBLE  FIRE 89 

VIII.     PRESENTS  THE  HEAD  OF  THE  FIRM 109 

IX.     NAVIGATION  OF  DOG'S-LEG  CREEK 127 

X.     ENVOYS  IN  COUNCIL 145 

XI.  AGAIN  PRESENTS  THE  HEAD  OF  THE  FIRM    .      .      .   159 

XII.     EXHIBITS  ANTISEPTICS 171 

XIII.  AT  THE  LIVERPOOL  END 185 

XIV.  TIM  HILL:  THE  JOURNEY 197 

XV.    TIM  HILL:  THE  MINE 217 

XVI.    THE  KING'S  BOUNTY 228 

XVII.     KATE  SENDS  A  CABLEGRAM 242 

XVIII.    CARTER  MAKES  A  PURCHASE 254 

XEK.     SENHOR  CASCAES 272 

XX.    MAJOR  MEREDITH 286 

XXI.    THE  FEELING  ON  THE  COAST 297 

XXII.    A  FISHERMAN  AND  HIS  CATCH 304 

XXIII.  THE  SONG  OF  SPEED                                                    .  312 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTKATIONS 


PAGE 


These  explained,  in  bold,  clear  tones  that  they  were  the  chief 
ju-ju  men  of  all  Afri(  a Frontispiece 

He  fired  on  and  on  with  deadly  speed  and  accuracy,  till  the 

heated  barrels  of  the  repeaters  burned  Laura  Slade's  hands      82 

Then,  as  the  crocodile  jumped  once  more,  he  threw  up  the  rifle 
and  shot  it  under  the  left  foreleg,  where  the  protective 
plates  are  absent 234 

She  gazed  her  fill  on  this  very  crude  presentment  of  George 

Carter  ,  .  .  .251 


(FACSIMILE  PAGE  OF  MANUSCKIPT  FBOM  KATE  MEREDITH  FINANCIER) 


La- 


KATE  MEREDITH, 
FINANCIER 

CHAPTEE  I 

A    WEST    COAST    WELCOME 

"  MIGHTY  beach  to-day !  "  grumbled  Captain  Image,  and 
handed  binoculars  across  to  the  purser. 

Mr.  Balgarnie  tossed  his  cigarette  over  the  lee  rail  and 
tucked  a  sheaf  of  papers  into  his  mouth  so  as  to  have  two 
spare  hands.  Day  had  ten  minutes  before  glared  up  over 
an  oily  swell-writhing  sea  of  bottle-green;  dew  lay  in  fat 
greasy  gouts  on  the  deck  planks  and  the  skylight  frames, 
foretelling  in  clear  prophecy  another  spell  of  scalding 
West  African  sunshine;  and  a  mile  out  from  the  crashing, 
bellowing  surf  that  smoked  along  the  beach,  the  S.S. 
M'poso  buttocked  sullenly  over  the  swells,  with  engines 
rung  off,  and  sweating  firemen  on  the  top  of  the  fiddley, 
slewing  ventilators  to  catch  a  flavor  of  the  breeze. 

"  They've  seen  us,  sir,  at  the  factory/'  said  Mr.  Bal- 
garnie. "  All  the  boys  are  out  working  cargo,  and  there's 
old  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  sucking  his  eternal  pipe  and 
hustling  them  with  a  chiquot.  I  can  catch  the  glint  of 
his  eyeglass.  Wonder  how  long  that  man's  been  out  on 
the  Coast?  Must  be  a  matter  of  twenty  years  now  by  all 
accounts  since  he  had  his  last  run  home.  He's  found  the 
right  kind  of  ju-ju  to  dodge  fever-palaver,  anyhow.  They 


8  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

say  he's  a  lazy  old  beach-comber  as  a  general  thing,  but 
he's  up  bright  and  early  this  morning." 

"  Wouldn't  you  rouse  out  in  a  hurry  if  you  only  saw  a 
Christian  steamboat  once  in  three  months  at  the  oftenest? 
I  told  the  second  mate  to  make  fast  the  whistle  string 
to  the  bridge  rail  when  he  judged  he  was  five  miles  off 
the  old  sinner's  beach,  and  I  guess  Swizzle-Stick  Smith 
jumped  slap  through  his  mosquito  bar  at  the  first  toot. 
See  those  pyjamas  he's  wearing?  He  bought  them  at  the 
forecastle  shop  aboard  here  just  six  months  ago." 

"Blue,  with  a  pink  stripe,  so  they  are.  This  is  a  rare 
good  glass  of  yours,  sir.  Yes,  I  remember  Chips  telling 
me.  Three  pairs  he  got  at  nine  bob  a  pair.  Wouldn't 
pay  a  sixpence  more.  And  tried  to  get  a  bottle  of  Eno 
thrown  in  as  a  make-weight.  Phew !  but  this  day's  going 
to  be  a  ringtailed  scorcher.  Look  at  the  mist  clearing 
away  from  those  hills  at  the  back  already." 

Captain  Image  stuffed  a  pipe  and  lit  it.  "  It's  a  mur- 
dering bad  beach  to-day,"  he  repeated.  "  Always  is  when 
there's  a  few  tons  of  cargo  waiting  for  me  to  get  commis- 
sion on." 

The  purser  touched  no  cargo  commission,  and  so  had 
but  small  sympathy  for  cargo  gathering.  "  I  see  old 
Swizzle-Stick's  making  his  boys  run  down  the  oil  casks 
into  the  surf.  They'll  never  swim  them  through.  Rather 
a  pity,  isn't  it,  sir,  to  stay  on  here  and  let  them  try? 
They're  bound  to  get  half  of  them  stove  at  the  very  least." 

"  That's  his  palaver.  I  missed  calling  here  last  round. 
There  was  a  swell  like  a  cliff  that  day;  but  then  there 
always  is  a  bad  beach  along  this  run  of  the  Coast ;  and  so 
he  should  have  double  lot  of  cargo  ready  for  me.  There'll 
be  oil  and  there'll  be  rubber,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  but 
what  he's  a  few  bags  of  kernels  as  well.  I  bet  that  factory 
on  the  beach  there  is  just  bulging  with  cargo.  It  ought 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK  9 

to  tally  up  to  quite  fifty  tons,  and  I'm  not  going  to  have 
some  other  captain  snapping  up  old  Swizzle-Stick  Smith's 
trade  if  I  know  it.  Balgarnie,  my  lad,  I'd  the  straight  tip 
given  me  from  O'Neill  and  Craven's  in  Liverpool  when  I 
was  home.  If  we  don't  make  it  handy  to  call  at  their  fac- 
tories along  this  Coast,  the  Hamburg  boats  will.  They've 
shipped  a  new  director  or  something  at  O'Neill  and 
Craven's — K.  O'Neill  he  signs  himself — and  that  man  in- 
tends to  make  things  hum." 

"  My  Whiskers !  "  said  the  Purser.  "  I  clean  forgot. 
We've  a  new  clerk  for  O'Neill  and  Craven's  here  at  Malla- 
Nulla.  It's  that  red-haired  young  chap,  Carter,  in  the 
second  class." 

"  Last  three  red-haired  passengers  I  knew  all  pegged 
out  within  three  months  of  being  put  ashore.  Color  of 
the  hair  seems  to  counteract  the  effects  of  drugs.  Purser, 
I'll  bet  you  just  two  cocktails  Carter's  planted  before  we're 
here  again  next  trip." 

"  It's  on,"  said  Mr.  Balgarnie,  "  and  I  shall  remember 
it.  The  young  chap's  made  me  a  picture  frame  for  my. 
room  as  good  as  you  could  buy  in  a  shop,  and  he's  built 
the  Doc  some  barbed  arrows  just  like  those  Kasai  ones  the 
old  chief  brought  along  from  the  Congo  when  he  was  on 
the  Antwerp  run.  He's  a  handy  young  fellow." 

"  That  doesn't  get  over  the  red  hair,  Purser.  You'll  lose 
that  cocktail.  Bet  you  another  cocktail,  if  you  like,  he 
gets  spilt  in  the  surf  getting  ashore." 

Mr.  Balgarnie  winked  pleasantly.  "  Then  we'll  consider 
that  last  one  lost  already."  He  put  his  head  inside  the 
chart-house  and  called  out  the  captain's  Krooboy  steward — 
"Brass-Pan?" 

"  Yessar." 

"  We  fit  for  two  cocktail." 

"  Savvy." 


10  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"You  lib  for  my  room,  you  fetch,  dem  gin-bottle,  an* 
give  him  to  bar  steward." 

"  Savvy." 

"  Well,  what  are  you  waiting  for  ?  Get  along,  you  bush- 
man,  one-time  .  .  .  That's  a  poor  boy  I'm  afraid 
you've  got,  Captain." 

"  Pipe-clays  shoes  very  neatly,"  said  Captain  Image. 
"  Oh,  you've  brought  those  papers  for  me  to  sign.  Well, 
come  into  the  chart-house,  Purser,  and  we'll  get  them 
through.  Hope  that  fool  of  a  boy  will  bring  the  cocktails 
quick.  These  early  morning  chills  are  dangerous  unless 
you  take  the  proper  preventives." 

Meanwhile  the  brazen  day  had  grown,  and  work  pro- 
ceeded at  a  forced  speed  both  on  the  steamer  and  on  the 
beach.  Ashore,  the  lonely  factory  bustled  with  evil-scented 
negroes,  who  strained  at  huge  white-ended  palm  oil 
puncheons.  On  the  M'poso  a  crew  of  chattering  Krooboys 
busied  themselves  aft,  and  presently  under  the  guidance 
of  a  profane  third  mate  a  brace  of  surf-boats  jerked  down 
towards  the  water,  the  tackles  squealing  like  a  parcel  of 
angry  cats  as  they  rendered  through  the  blocks.  The  boats 
spurned  away  into  the  clear  sea  before  the  steamer's  rusty 
iron  side  crashed  down  onto  them:  the  Krooboys  perched 
themselves  ape-like  on  the  gunwales,  paddle  in  hand:  and 
in  the  stern  of  each  straddled  a  noisy  headman,  in  billy- 
cock and  trousers,  straining  and  swaying  at  the  steering 
car. 

The  headman  was  in  charge,  and  the  well-spiced  official 
English  of  ship-board  ceased.  The  speech  in  the  boats  was 
one  of  the  barbaric  tongues  of  savage  Africa.  But  the  work 
they  got  through  and  the  skill  they  showed  exceeded  by 
far  that  which  could  have  been  put  forth  by  any  crew  of 
white  men.  Indeed,  in  his  more  pious  moments,  Captain 
Image,  in  common  with  other  mariners  of  his  kind,  firmly 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  11 

believed  that  God  had  invented  certain  of  the  West  African 
Coast  tribes  for  the  sole  purpose  of  handling  the  boats  of 
the  Liverpool  oil  tanks  on  surf-smitten  beaches. 

Now,  Captain  Image  was  not  in  the  least  degree  a  snob, 
and  he  did  not  take  even  first-class  passengers  on  their 
face  value.  As  he  would  explain  to  intimates,  he  was  not 
out  on  the  Coast  for  his  health;  he  very  much  wished  to 
be  able  some  day  to  retire  on  a  competency,  and  grow  cab- 
bages outside  of  Cardiff;  and  so  he  dispensed  his  affability 
on  a  nicely  regulated  scale.  If  a  man  could  influence 
cargo  in  the  direction  of  the  M'poso,  Captain  Image  was 
ready  at  all  times  to  extend  to  him  the  rough  red  hand 
of  friendship,  and  to  supply  gin  cocktails  and  German 
champagne  till  conversation  flowed  into  the  desired  com- 
mercial channel.  He  called  this  casting  bread  upon  the 
waters,  and  could  always  rely  on  getting  the  prime  cost 
back  in  commission.  But  he  was  no  man  to  waste  either 
his  good  liquor  or  his  pearls  of  speech  on  a  mere  fifty- 
pound-a-year  clerk,  with  a  red  head,  who  would  very  pos- 
sibly be  dead  before  the  M'poso's  next  call,  and  who  cer- 
tainly could  influence  no  cargo  for  the  next  two  years  to 
come.  So  from  the  day  they  left  Liverpool  to  the  day 
when  the  steamer's  forefoot  scraped  at  her  cable  off  Malla- 
Nulla  beach,  Captain  Image  had  not  condescended  to  offer 
that  particular  second-class  passenger  so  much  as  a  morn- 
ing nod. 

But  Captain  Image  was  kindly  enough  in  the  West 
African  way,  and  when  he  had  drunk  his  morning  cock- 
tail and  gone  through  the  Purser's  papers,  he  came  out  of 
the  chart-house  again  and  produced  from  his  pyjama 
pocket  a  half-filled  box  of  pills. 

"  There,  my  lad,"  he  said  to  Carter,  as  he  made  the 
presentation,  "you  take  one  of  those  according  to  the  di- 
rections on  the  lid,  when  required,  and  you'll  have  your 


12  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

health  kept  in  a  repair  that  will  surprise  you.  Now,  mark 
me  well ;  you'll  be  tempted  with  other  brands  of  pills ;  old 
Swiz — I  mean  Mr.  Smith,  your  boss,  is  a  regular  crank 
on  drugs ;  but  as  sure  as  you  tip  other  medicines  down  into 
your  inside,  my  pills  will  get  hindered  at  their  proper 
work,  and  you'll  be  knocked  over." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Carter.    "  But  I  always  understood " 

"  I'm  sure  you  did.  Now  there's  one  other  thing  I  want 
to  impress  on  you,  my  lad.  Your  duty  is  to  get  on,  and 
the  way  to  do  that  is  to  scratch  up  cargo  and  send  it  home 
by  the  M'poso.  You  see,  my  lad,  I've  got  more  influence 
with  O'Neill  and  Craven  than  any  other  captain  on  the 
Coast  (though  you  needn't  go  and  stir  up  mischief  by 
spreading  that  about),  and  if  you  keep  yourself  in  my  mem- 
ory by  the  way  Malla-Nulla  ships  cargo  by  me,  I'll  let 
them  fully  understand  at  the  home  office  that  services  like 
yours  want  a  big  raise  in  salary.  There,  don't  you  bother 
to  thank  me,  my  lad,  and  just  you  stow  that  box  of  pills 
where  they  won't  get  lost  if  you're  spilt  going  ashore 
through  that  surf.  It's  a  mighty  bad  beach  to-day." 

"  Ah,  morning,  Carter,"  said  Mr.  Balgarnie  as  he  bustled 
up.  "  Got  all  your  things  up  on  deck  ?  It's  no  concern 
of  mine,  of  course,  but  if  there  are  any  little  odds  and 
ends  you  want,  such  as  socks,  or  Florida  water,  or  a  mos- 
quito bar,  I  believe  Chips  and  the  bos'n  keep  a  sort  of 
surreptitious  shop  somewhere  in  the  forecastle  where  you 
could  fill  up  your  stores." 

"Much  obliged,"  said  the  passenger,  "but  I  think  I've 
got  all  I  want,  or  rather  all  I  can  afford." 

"  Remembered  to  bring  donkey-clippers  for  hair-cutting  ? 
No?  Well,  just  as  you  please.  What  I  really  wished  to 
mention  to  you  was  this:  when  your  pay  comes  in,  you'll 
naturally  want  little  comforts  sent  out  from  home,  and 
you  won't  care  to  worry  any  of  your  friends  to  get  them 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  13 

for  you.  Now  don't  you  have  any  qualms  about  making 
use  of  me.  Just  say  what  you  want,  and  I'll  get  it  and 
bring  it  out."  Mr.  Balgarnie  winked  most  pleasantly. 
"  I'm  purser  here,  of  course,  and  have  to  back  up  the  Com- 
pany's charges,  but  I  can  always  make  the  rates  reasonable 
to  oblige  a  friend.  There,  good-by,  old  fellow.  The  boat's 
ready  to  take  you  off." 

A  surf  boat  swung  dizzily  up  and  down  at  the  guess- 
warp  alongside  and  the  two  yellow  gladstone  bags  on  its 
floor  seemed  ludicrously  out  of  place  beside  the  savage 
paddlers.  Carter  was  conscious  that  his  heart  worked  up 
to  an  unpleasant  activity;  but  he  carried  a  serene  face, 
dropped  to  his  knees  in  the  gangway,  and  began  with  un- 
accustomed feet  to  clamber  down  the  Jacob's  ladder.  He 
noted  without  disturbance  that  he  was  daubing  coal  dust 
and  orange-colored  palm  oil  onto  his  hands  and  white  drill 
clothes  in  the  process;  but  he  had  a  mind  now  which 
entirely  disregarded  the  trivial;  all  his  interest  vas  fixed 
upon  the  boat. 

"  Don't  jump  too  soon." 

"  Take  care  you  don't  drop  that  new  pith  hat." 

"  Mind,  don't  let  the  boat  come  up  and  squash  you." 

"  Don't  flurry  the  man  so.  Put  your  feet  in  your  pocket 
if  you  see  a  shark." 

A  stream  of  advice,  much  of  it  satirical,  pelted  him  from 
above.  Looking  over  his  shoulder,  he  saw  beneath  him  the 
leaping  boat  and  a  ring  of  negro  grins.  It  was  these  last 
that  stiffened  him  into  action.  The  surf-boat  swooped 
up  sideways,  and  when  it  seemed  to  him  that  she  had 
reached  the  zenith  of  her  leap,  he  let  go  the  Jacob's  ladder 
and  sprang  for  her. 

It  is  a  matter  of  nice  judgment,  this  determination  of 
the  psychological  moment  for  a  jump;  and  the  amateur 
has  it  not.  As  a  consequence  Carter's  foot  slid  on  the  wet 


14  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

gnu  wale;  he  buttocked  painfully  onto  a  thwart;  and  was 
saved  from  spinning  overboard  by  rough  and  ready  black 
fingers.  The  new  pith  helmet  received  its  first  crack,  the 
white  drill  clothes  were  further  soiled,  and  he  was  left  to 
gather  himself  out  of  the  slop  of  water  on  the  bottom  of 
the  boat  as  best  he  pleased.  Already  the  Krooboy  crew 
were  perched  ape-like  on  the  gunwales,  and  stabbing  strenu- 
ously at  the  water  with  trident-headed  paddles.  The  head- 
man straddled  in  the  stern  with  the  muscles  standing  out 
in  him  like  nuts,  as  he  sculled  with  the  steering  oar. 

It  had  all  passed  so  quickly  that  the  steamer  had  only 
accomplished  one-half  of  a  roll.  The  white  faces  that  he 
had  seen  last  beside  him  were  now  small  and  far  away  at 
the  top  of  an  enormously  high  iron  wall,  and  to  their  shouts 
of  farewell  and  fluttering  of  handkerchiefs  he  could  not 
bring  himself  to  return  more  than  a  curt  hand-wave.  It 
seemed  to  him  that  he  was  cut  off  entirely  from  white  men 
and  white  man's  territory,  and  was  launched  beyond  release 
into  West  Africa  with  all  its  smells  and  accoutrements. 

He  settled  himself  in  the  mid  thwart  of  the  surf-boat 
with  the  water  on  the  floor  flowing  merrily  in  and  out  of 
his  pipe-clayed  shoes.  Whatever  a  white  man  may  feel,  he 
always  assumes  coolness  and  indifference  before  the  black, 
and  Carter  picked  up  the  instinct  of  his  race. 

His  progress  shoreward  had  two  distinct  phases.  At 
one  time  he  and  the  boat  lay  in  a  watery  ravine  with  high 
sides  towering  above  him,  and  no  view  save  of  sleek  bottle- 
green  water  and  cobalt  sky  overhead.  The  next  moment 
he  was  expressed  upwards  on  to  an  eminence  and  there  be- 
fore him  lay  landscape  and  seascape  of  most  pleasant  quali- 
ties. At  these  last  moments  of  exaltation,  he  saw  a  glaring 
beach  set  along  the  sea's  edge,  carrying  white  factory  build- 
ings, and  backed  in  by  an  orderly  wall  of  green. 

He  saw  also  palm-oil  puncheons  being  brought  off,  and 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  15 

an  interest  in  the  work  bit  him  immediately.  Here  was  the 
commodity  which  (bar  death)  would  for  years  to  come  be 
his  chiefest  intimate.  Between  eclipses  of  the  rollers,  he 
watched  every  stage  of  the  work — the  great  white-ended 
barrels  rolled  down  the  glaring  beach,  naked  savages  swim- 
ming them  through  the  surf  with  unimaginable  skill,  a 
green  painted  surf-boat  at  anchor  outside  the  breakers  mak- 
ing them  fast  to  a  buoyed  hawser.  He  saw  another  hawser- 
load  being  heaved  out  to  the  steamer's  winch,  with  the 
great  casks  popping  about  like  a  string  of  gigantic  cher- 
ries. Already  on  the  M'poso  he  had  seen  other  puncheons 
howked  on  board  by  a  steam-crane  which  was  driven  by  a 
one-eared  Krooboy. 

He  had  grasped  this  much  of  his  new  trade  when  sight 
seemed  to  grow  misty  to  him,  and  his  body  was  chilled  with 
an  unpleasant  perspiration.  It  is  one  thing  to  take  one's 
regular  meals  on  a  fine-sized  steamboat,  whatever  weather 
may  befall;  it  is  quite  another  to  do  one's  voyaging  in  a 
leaping,  lancing,  dancing,  wallowing  surf-boat.  Few  men 
take  their  first  surf -boat  ride  over  a  bad  roll  without  being 
violently  seasick,  and  Carter  was  no  exception  to  the  nor- 
mal law. 

In  a  hazy  sort  of  way  he  noted  that  the  paddlers  had 
stopped  their  song  and  their  monotonous  effort,  and  he  was 
seized  with  a  tremendous  desire  to  hurry  them  forward  and 
get  himself  and  his  gladstone  bags  planted  on  the  stable 
beach.  Ahead  of  them  were  roaring,  spouting  breakers, 
which  it  seemed  impossible  for  any  boat  to  live  through; 
but  waiting  outside  their  fringe  was  even  more  intolerable. 

"  Oh,  get  on !  For  Heaven's  sake,  get  on !  "  he  wanted 
to  shout,  but  almost  to  his  astonishment  pride  of  race  kept 
him  grimly  silent.  He  had  never  felt  before  the  whole  debt 
that  is  owing  to  a  white  skin. 

The  headman  in  the  stern-sheets  sculled  now  and  again 


16  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

with  his  oar  to  keep  the  boat  head  on  to  the  roll,  and  be- 
tween whiles  chattered  nervously.  The  Krooboy  paddlers 
on  the  gunwales  rested  on  their  paddles  and  scratched 
themselves.  Roller  after  roller  went  by,  flinging  the  boat 
up  towards  heaven,  sucking  her  back  again  to  the  sea  grass 
below,  with  a  rocking  motion  that  was  horrible  beyond  be- 
lief. Carter  felt  the  color  ebb  from  his  cheeks ;  he  wondered 
with  a  grisly  humor  if  his  head  was  paling  also. 

But  at  last  the  headman  delivered  himself  of  a  shriek, 
and  a  galvanic  activity  seized  the  paddlers.  They  stabbed 
the  water  with  their  trident-shaped  blades,  and  stabbed  and 
stabbed  again.  The  surf-boat  was  poised  on  the  crest  of  a 
great  mound  of  water,  and  they  were  straining  every  sinew 
to  keep  her  there.  But  the  water  motion  travelled  more 
swiftly  than  the  clumsy  boat.  She  slid  down  the  slope, 
still  paddling  frantically,  and  the  following  wave  lifted  her 
rudely  by  the  tail.  She  reared  dizzily  almost  to  the  vertical, 
the  headman  at  the  apex  of  the  whole  structure  keeping 
his  perch  with  an  ape's  dexterity. 

She  just  missed  being  upset  that  time,  and  part  of  the 
water  which  she  had  shipped  was  flung  over  the  gunwales 
as  she  righted.  But  she  floated  there  half  swamped :  labor 
with  what  frenzy  they  choose,  the  iron-muscled  Krooboys 
could  not  keep  her  under  command;  and  the  next  roller 
sent  the  whole  company  of  them  flying. 

There  is  one  piece  of  advice  constantly  dinned  into  a 
white  man's  ear  on  the  West  Coast.  "  If  in  a  surf -boat 
you  see  the  boat  boys  jump  overboard,  jump  yourself  also 
if  you  do  not  wish  to  have  the  boat  on  top  of  you."  Pro- 
foundly sound  advice  it  is.  But  it  has  the  disadvantage  of 
presupposing  capability  for  obedience,  and  if  (as  fre- 
quently happens)  the  passenger  is  dizzy  and  weak  from 
sudden  seasickness,  then  the  leap  may  be  neither  prompt 
nor  well-aimed. 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  17 

As  to  where  Carter's  fault  occurred,  I  have  no  certain 
information.  The  headman  shrieked  an  order  in  his  own 
barbarous  tongue;  the  boat  boys  took  to  water  on  either 
side  like  so  many  black  frogs;  the  boat  spilt,  flinging  far 
two  yellow  gladstone  bags  and  one  limp  passenger  in  soiled 
white  ducks;  and,  look  how  one  would  into  that  boiling 
hell  of  broken  water,  no  red  head  appeared. 

On  the  glaring  beach  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  broke  off  from 
his  overseeing  for  a  moment,  and  limped  down  into  the 
smoke  of  the  surf.  He  had  a  chiquot  in  his  hand,  which 
is  a  whip  made  of  the  most  stinging  part  of  the  hippo- 
potamus, and  with  it  he  slashed  venomously  at  every  black 
form  that  scrambled  out  of  the  brine. 

He  screamed  at  them  in  their  own  tongue.  "  Get  back, 
you  black  swine!  Get  back,  and  fetch  out  my  clerk.  If 
you  drown  my  clerk,  I  will  drown  you,  too.  My  last  clerk 
died  a  year  ago,  and  they  have  got  me  no  other  out  here 
since.  I  won't  lose  this  one.  Back,  you  bushmen  !  " 

The  chiquot  had  many  terrors  to  the  Krooboys,  the  water 
few.  It  was  as  much  out  of  forgetfulness  as  anything  else 
that  they  had  not  brought  their  passenger  to  shore  with 
them.  Besides,  how  were  they  to  know  that  he  could  not 
swim  as  well  as  themselves  (that  is,  about  as  well  as  a  seal 
can  swim)  ?  But  they  were  not  above  striking  a  bargain 
for  their  services.  A  black  head,  served  upon  a  white 
pother  of  creamy  surf,  gave  tongue. 

"  Oh,  Smith.    You  give  cash,  suppose  we  fit  for  catch 


"  You  lib  for  beach  with  my  clerk,  and  I  dash  you  one 
whole  box  of  gin.  Hurry  up  now,  you  thieves,  or  a  shark 
will  chop  him,  or  else  he'll  drown." 

Heads  disappeared,  and  many  pairs  of  black  heels  kicked 
upwards.  The  old  man  hitched  together  his  shabby  py- 
jamas, and  stared  industriously  at  the  broken  water  through 


18  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

his  eyeglass.  "  It's  all  very  well  for  this  K.  O'Neill  to  send 
out  letters  that  the  firm  is  going  to  double  its  business/' 
he  grumbled,  "  but  if  they  don't  send  me  men  that  can  get 
ashore  in  one  piece,  how  this  factory  at  Malla-Nulla  is 
going  to  buck  up,  I  can't  see.  By  Jove,  they've  got  him, 
the  beggars.  Red-headed  chap,  too.  Well,  I  might  have 
saved  that  dash,  I'm  thinking.  Men  with  red  heads  never 
seem  to  stand  the  climate  here  for  long.  It  will  be  a 
nuisance  if  the  beggar  pegs  out  within  the  month,  after 
I've  spent  a  case  of  gin  on  him." 

It  was  a  very  limp  and  bedraggled  Carter  that  was 
brought  ashore  presently  by  the  Krooboys.  He  was  held 
up  by  the  heels,  more  Africwno,  to  let  the  Atlantic  drain 
from  his  inside  back  into  its  proper  place,  but  he  did  not 
show  any  sign  of  consciousness  till  he  had  been  lifted  up 
and  carried  to  the  shelter  of  the  retail  store. 

Swizzle-Stick  Smith  limped  beside  him,  puffing  at  his 
briar.  "Beggar's  got  an  arm  broken,"  he  commented. 
"  Just  my  luck.  And  K.  O'Neill  will  expect  the  work  to  be 
done  just  the  same.  Oh" — he  said  when  the  dripping 
Krooboys  had  put  down  his  guest  on  the  counter — "so 
you've  concluded  to  come  to  your  senses  again  ?  " 

Carter  shuddered  and  slowly  opened  his  eyes.  A  brown 
cockroach,  horrible  with  dust,  dropped  from  the  rafter 
above  onto  his  face. 

"  I'm  afraid  you've  had  rather  a  rough  bout  of  it,  land- 
ing, my  lad.  It's  a  very  bad  beach  to-day.  There,  don't 
move.  You're  all  right.  You'll  feel  a  bit  queer  yet." 

"  The  boat  upset " 

"  It  did,  most  thoroughly.  But  you're  now  at  Malla- 
Nulla  factory  in  West  Africa,  and  I  bid  you  welcome.  I'm 
Mr.  Smith,  your  commanding  officer.  You'd  like  to  lie 
still  for  a  bit,  perhaps  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Well,  buck  up,  and  you'll  soon  be  all  right.     You 


KATE   MEEEDITH,   FINANCIER  19 

needn't  fancy  you'll  be  a  candidate  for  a  top-hat  and  a 
gun-case  yet." 

"  For  a  which  ?  " 

The  trader  pointed  with  his  pipe  stem  across  the  store  to 
a  wooden  box  full  of  flintlock  trade  guns.  "  That's  a  gun 
case.  Man's  usually  too  long  to  fit  it  comfortably,  es- 
pecially if  he's  as  well-grown  as  you  are.  So  we  knock  out 
one  end,  and  nail  on  an  old  top-hat.  Then  you  can  plant 
him  in  style." 

The  patient's  mouth  twitched  with  the  corner  of  a  smile. 
"  A  most  tidy  custom,"  he  said  faintly.  "  But  I  say,  could 
you  do  anything  for  my  arm?  Sorry  to  trouble  you,  but 
it's  most  abominably  painful." 

"  Your  arm's  broken,  worse  luck.  I'll  set  it  for  you  when 
I've  got  off  this  cargo." 

"  I'd  rather  have  a  doctor.  Will  you  send  off  to  the 
M'poso  for  the  doctor  there,  please  ?  " 

The  old  man  laughed  and  polished  his  eyeglass  on  a 
sleeve  of  his  pyjamas.  My  lad,  you  don't  understand. 
You've  left  the  steamer  now,  and  her  doctor's  not  the  kind 
of  fool  to  risk  his  own  bones  trying  to  get  here  with  the 
beach  as  bad  as  it  is  to-day.  I  don't  suppose  he  mistakes 
you  for  a  millionaire.  You  came  out  in  the  second  class, 
I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  there  you  are.  His  responsibility  ended  when  you 
left  the  steamer,  and  ship's  doctors  don't  come  ashore  on 
this  Coast  unless  they're  sure  of  touching  a  big  fat  fee. 
Now  you  must  just  lie  quiet  where  you  are,  and  bite  on 
your  teeth  till  I've  some  time  for  surgery.  Trade  comes 
first  in  West  Africa." 

With  which  naked  truth,  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  relit  his 
pipe,  and  went  out  again  into  the  brazen  sunshine,  and 
presently  was  hustling  on  the  factory  boys  at  their  cargo 
work  with  his  accustomed  eloquence  and  dexterity. 


CHAPTER  II 

INTRODUCES    MISS    LAURA    SLADE 

IF  a  white  man  in  a  West  African  factory  volunteers 
details  of  his  previous  history,  all  hearers  are  quite  at  lib- 
erty to  believe  or  disbelieve,  as  suits  their  whim ;  but  if,  on 
the  other  hand,  no  word  about  previous  record  is  offered, 
Coast  etiquette  strictly  rules  that  none  shall  be  asked  for. 

George  Carter  found  even  upon  the  surface  of  his  su- 
perior officer  at  Malla-Nulla  factory  much  that  was  mys- 
terious. There  were  moments  when  Mr.  Smith  exhibited 
an  unmistakable  gentility;  but  these  were  rare;  and  they 
usually  occurred  when  the  pair  of  them  lunched  en  tete-a- 
tete  at  11  o'clock,  and  Smith  had  worked  off  his  morning 
qualm,  and  had  not  commenced  his  afternoon  refreshment. 
With  a  larger  audience  he  was  one  part  cynic  and  six  parts 
ruffian ;  he  was  admitted  to  be  the  most  skilful  compounder 
of  cocktails  on  all  that  section  of  the  West  African  sea- 
board; and  he  sampled  his  own  brews  in  such  quantities, 
and  with  such  impunity,  as  gave  the  lie  to  all  text-books  on 
topical  medicine. 

His  head  was  bald,  and  the  gray  hair  on  his  face  and 
above  his  ears  was  either  as  short  as  clippers  could  make 
it,  or  else  bristled  with  a  two  weeks'  growth.  Day  and 
night  he  wore  more  or  less  shrunken  pyjamas,  from  the 
neck  buttonhole  of  which  a  single  eyeglass  dangled  at  the 
end  of  a  piece  of  new  black  silk  ribbon.  Carter  guessed  his 
age  as  somewhere  between  fifty  and  fifty-five,  and  wondered 
why  on  earth  Messrs.  O'Neill  and  Craven  kept  such  a  dis- 


KATE   MEEEDITH,   FINANCIER  21 

reputable  old  person  as  the  head  of  what  might  have  been 
a  very  prosperous  factory. 

Indeed,  theories  on  this  very  point  were  already  lodged 
in  the  older  man's  brain.  "  It's  this  new  partner,  K. 
O'Neill,  that  I  don't  like  the  sound  of,"  he  explained  to 
Carter  one  day.  "  By  the  way,  who  is  he  ?  " 

"  Don't  know.  As  I  told  you  I  was  staying  with  my 
father  at  the  vicarage,  and  I  was  engaged  by  wire  the  day 
before  the  M'poso  sailed,  and  only  caught  her  by  the  skin 
of  my  teeth.  There  was  nobody  there  to  see  me  off,  and  on 
the  boat  all  they  could  tell  me  was  that '  K.'  came  into  the 
business  when  the  late  head  died." 

"  Old  Godfrey,  that  was  " — Swizzle-Stick  Smith  sighed 
— "  poor  old  Godfrey  O'Neill !  He  was  one  of  the  best  fel- 
lows going  in  the  old  days,  not  a  bit  like  the  usual  cut  of 
palm-oil  ruffian  as  we  used  to  call  the  traders  then.  And, 
my  God !  to  think  of  my  coming  down  to  the  grade  of  one 
of  them  myself." 

Again  the  subject  cropped  up  when  one  of  their  rare 
mails  came  in.  "Here's  expense!  "  grumbled  Swizzle-Stick 
Smith.  "Letters  landed  at  our  Monk  River  factory,  and 
sent  on  to  Mulla-Nulla  by  special  runner.  K.  O'Neill's  or- 
ders, the  Monk  River  agent  says.  In  the  old  days  you  could 
always  bet  on  the  beach  being  too  bad  for  the  steamer  to 
call  twice  out  of  three  times,  and  you  weren't  pestered  with 
a  mail  more  than  once  in  six  months.  That's  mainly  why 
I've  stuck  by  O'Neill  and  Craven  all  these  years.  Now  this 
new  man  wants  our  output  of  kernels  to  be  doubled  by  this 
time  next  year,  and  hopes  I'll  take  steps  to  work  up  the 
rubber  connection.  If  I  can't  see  my  way  to  do  all  this,  will 
I  kindly  give  my  reasons  in  writing,  and  if  necessary  for- 
ward same  by  runner  to  a  steamer's  calling  point,  so  that 
reply  may  be  in  Liverpool  within  sii  weeks  at  latest  What 
do  you  think  of  that?" 


22  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  Oh,  I  should  say  it  was  reasonable  enough  from  the 
Liverpool  point  of  view." 

;  "  Bah !  There's  not  much  of  the  Coast  about  you."  He 
tore  the  letters  into  shreds,  and  folded  these  carefully  into 
pipe-lights.  "  Dear  old  Godfrey  trusted  me  up  to  the  hilt, 
and  this  new  fellow's  got  to  learn  to  do  the  same,  or  I  shall 
resign  my  commission.  If  he  understood  anything  about 
running  the  office,  he  might  know  I  should  do  all  the  work 
that  was  good  for  me." 

"  I'm  sure  you  do,"  said  Carter  civilly.  "  I'm  afraid  I'm 
the  slacker.  You  let  me  have  such  an  easy  time  of  it  whilst 
my  arm  was  getting  well,  that  I've  slid  off  into  lazy  ways. 
I  must  buck  up,  and  if  you'll  load  the  work  onto  me, 
Mr.  Smith,  you'll  find  I  can  do  a  lot  more." 

Swizzle-Stick  Smith  dried  the  perspiration  from  his  eye 
socket,  fixed  his  glass  into  a  firmer  hold,  and  stared. 
"  Well,"  he  said  at  last,  "  you  are  a  d — d  fool."  And  there 
the  talk  ended. 

It  was  that  same  day  that  Carter  had  his  first  introduc- 
tion to  Royalty.  He  was  in  the  retail  store — "feteesh,"  they 
call  it  on  the  Coast — weighing  out  baskets  of  palm  kernels, 
measuring  calabashes  of  orange-colored  palm  oil,  judging 
as  best  he  could  the  amount  of  adulterants  the  simple  negro 
had  added  to  increase  the  bulk,  and  apportioning  the  value 
in  cotton  cloth,  powder,  flintlock  guns  at  twelve  and  six- 
pence apiece,  and  green  cubical  boxes  of  Holland  gin. 
Trade  proceeded  solwly.  The  interior  of  the  feteesh  was  a 
stew  of  heat  and  odors,  and  the  white  man's  elaborate  cal- 
culations were  none  of  the  most  glib.  To  knock  some  idea 
of  the  fairness  of  these  into  the  black  man's  skull  was  a 
work  that  required  not  only  eloquence,  but  also  athletic 
power.  The  simple  savage  who  did  only  one  day's  shopping 
per  annum  was  willing  always  to  let  the  delights  of  it 
linger  out  as  long  as  possible,  and  all  the  white  man's 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  23 

hustling  could  not  drive  the  business  along  at  more  than  a 
snail's  pace. 

By  Coast  custom,  work  for  Europeans  starts  in  those  cool 
hours  that  know  the  daybreak,  and  switches  off  between 
eleven  and  twelve  for  breakfast;  and  thereafter  siesta  is 
the  rule  till  the  sun  once  more  begins  to  throw  a  shadow. 
But  on  this  particular  day,  when  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  had 
knocked  out  his  pipe  and  turned  in  under  his  mosquito 
bar,  Carter  sluiced  a  parrafin-can  full  of  water  over  his  red 
head  by  way  of  a  final  refreshment,  and  went  down  once 
more  from  the  living  rooms  of  the  factory  to  the  heat  and 
the  odors  of  the  feteesh  below. 

The  sweating  customers  saw  him  come  and  roused  up  out 
of  the  purple  shadows,  and  presently  the  game  of  haggle 
was  once  more  in  full  swing. 

Carter  had  a  natural  gift  for  tongues,  and  was  picking 
up  the  difficult  Coast  languages  to  the  best  of  his  ability, 
but  his  vocabulary  was  of  necessity  small,  and  a  Krooboy 
stood  by  to  translate  intricate  passages  into  idiom  more 
likely  to  penetrate  the  harder  skulls.  The  Krooboy  wore 
trousers  and  singlet  in  token  of  his  advanced  civilization, 
and  bore  with  pride  the  name  of  White-Man' s-Trouble. 

There  was  a  glut  of  customers  that  baking  afternoon. 
High-scented  trade  stuffs  poured  into  the  factory  in  pleas- 
ing abundance,  and  bundles  of  European  produce  were  bal- 
anced upon  woolly  craniums  for  transportation  through 
bush  paths  to  that  wild  unknown  Africa  beyond  the  hinter- 
land. The  new  law  of  K.  O'Neill  allowed  no  lingering  in 
the  feteesh.  Once  a  customer  had  been  delivered  of  his 
goods,  and  had  accepted  payment,  White-Man's-Trouble 
decanted  him  into  the  scalding  sunshine  outside,  and  bade 
him  hasten  upon  his  ways.  K.  O'Neill  had  stated  very 
plainly,  in  a  typewritten  letter,  that  the  leakage  by  theft 
was  unpleasing  to  the  directorate  in  Liverpool,  and  must 


24  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

be  stopped.  K.  O'Neill  understood  that  the  thefts  took 
place  after  a  customer  had  spent  all  his  cash  on  legitimate 
purchase,  as  then  all  his  savage  intelligence  was  turned  to 
pilfering.  Carter,  as  the  man  on  the  spot,  recognized  the 
truth  of  all  this,  and  carried  out  the  instructions  to  the  foot 
of  the  letter. 

Mr.  Smith  warned  him  he  would  have  trouble  over  it. 
"  Ever  since  the  first  factory  came  down  to  blight  this 
Coast,"  Smith  explained,  "  the  boys  have  been  allowed  to 
hang  around  the  feteesh  and  steal  what  wasn't  nailed  down. 
They  look  upon  it  in  the  light  of  a  legitimate  discount, 
and  it's  grown  up  into  a  custom.  Now  in  West  Africa  you 
may  burn  a  forest,  or  blot  out  a  nation,  or  start  a  new 
volcano,  and  nobody  will  say  very  much  to  you,  but  if  you 
interfere  with  a  recognized  custom,  you  come  in  contact 
with  the  biggest  kind  of  trouble." 

"  Still,"  Carter  pointed  out,  "  these  orders  are  definite." 

"  And  you  are  the  kind  of  fool  that  goes  on  the  principle 
of  '  obeying  orders  if  you  break  owners.'  Well,  go  ahead 
and  carry  out  instructions.  I  won't  interfere  with  you. 
I'd  rather  like  to  see  this  cocksure  K.  O'Neill  get  a  smack 
in  the  eye  to  cure  his  meddling.  And  for  yourself,  keep 
your  weather  eye  lifting,  or  some  indignant  nigger  will 
ram  a  foot  of  iron  into  you.  It's  the  Okky-men  I'd  take 
especial  care  of  if  I  were  you.  They've  got  their  tails  up  a 
good  deal  more  than's  healthy  just  now.  I'm  told,  too, 
that  their  head  witch  doctor  wants  his  war  drum  redec- 
orated." Mr.  Smith  grinned — "  I  don't  want  to  be  per- 
sonal, of  course." 

"  Oh,  don't  mind  me.  So  far  I  rather  fail  to  understand 
what  I've  got  to  do  with  the  Okky  City  war  drum." 

"  You  see  you  carry  round  with  you  something  that 
would  make  the  very  best  kind  of  heap-too-good  ju-ju." 

"  Still  I  don't  understand." 


KATE    MEKEDITH,   FINANCIER  25 

Swizzle-Stick  Smith  got  up  and  stretched,  and  limped 
across  to  the  door.  "  It's  that  red  head  of  yours,  my  lad," 
he  said  over  his  shoulder  as  he  went  out.  "  Every  witch 
doctor  in  West  Africa  that  sees  it  will  just  itch  to  have  it 
amongst  his  ornaments.  I'd  dye  it  sky-blue  if  I  were  you, 
just  for  safety  sake." 

This  of  course  might  be  Mr.  Smith's  delicate  irony,  or 
again  it  might  be  literally  true.  Carter  had  already  been 
long  enough  in  West  Africa  to  know  that  very  unusual 
and  unpleasant  things  can  happen  there ;  but  that  made  no 
change  in  his  determination.  K.  O'Neill  was  perfectly 
right  about  the  matter ;  this  pilfering  ought  to  be  stopped ; 
and  he  felt  convinced  that  White-Man' s-Trouble  would  help 
to  see  that  justice  was  done.  That  particular  Krooboy  was 
thievish  himself,  certainly,  but  he  had  a  short  way  with 
any  fellow  African  who  dared  to  be  light-fingered. 

So  during  all  that  hot  morning,  and  all  that  sweltering 
afternoon,  merchant  after  merchant  was  shown  out  into  the 
sunshine,  and  those  who  chattered  and  would  not  go  will- 
ingly were  assisted  by  the  strong  right  arm  of  White-Man's- 
Trouble. 

Just  upon  the  time  when  siestas  generally  ended,  that  is, 
about  four  o'clock,  there  came  a  burly  Okky  trader  who 
swaggered  up  to  the  factory  with  five  carriers  in  his  train 
laden  down  with  bags  of  rubber. 

Carter  examined  the  evil  smelling  stuff,  and  cut  open 
two  or  three  of  the  larger  round  lumps.  The  gentle  savage 
had  put  in  quite  thirty  per  cent,  of  sticks,  and  sand,  and 
alien  gum  by  way  of  makeweight,  and  was  as  petulant  as  a 
child  at  having  this  simple  fraud  discovered.  He  still 
further  disliked  the  price  that  was  offered;  and  when  it 
came  to  making  his  purchases,  and  he  found  that  the  par- 
ticular spot-white-on-blue  cotton  cloth  on  which  he  had 
built  up  his  fancy  was  out  of  stock,  the  remaining  rags  of 


26  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

his  temper  were  frayed  completely.  For  an  unbroken  ten 
minutes  he  cursed  Carter,  and  Malla-Nulla  factory,  and  an 
unknown  Manchester  skipper  in  fluent  Okky,  here  and 
there  embroidered  with  a  few  words  of  that  slave-trader's 
Arabic,  which  is  specially  designed  as  a  comfort  for  the  im- 
patient, and  when  he  had  accepted  a  roll  of  blue  cloth 
spotted  in  another  pattern,  and  was  invited  to  leave  the 
f eteesh,  he  held  himself  to  be  one  of  the  worst  used  Africans 
on  the  Dark  Continent. 

Carter,  who  was  tired  and  hot,  signed  to  his  henchman. 
"  Here,  fire  that  ruffian  out/'  he  said. 

But  White-ManVTrouble  affected  to  hear  a  summons 
from  outside.  "  Dat  you,  Smith  ?  Yessar,  I  come  one- 
time," said  he,  and  bolted  out  through  the  doorway. 

"  Here  you,"  said  Carter  to  the  big  Okky-man,  "  you  fol- 
low that  Krooboy  out  of  here.  If  I  have  to  tell  you  a 
second  time,  there'll  be  trouble.  Come,  now,  git." 

Carter's  command  of  the  native  might  be  faulty,  but  the 
grammar  of  his  gestures  was  correct  enough.  What,  go  out 
of  the  feteesh  before  he  chose?  The  Okky-man  had  no 
idea  of  doing  such  a  thing.  He  lifted  his  walking  spear 
threateningly,  and  snarled. 

Simultaneously  Carter  put  his  right  hand  on  the  greasy 
counter  and  vaulted.  He  caught  the  upraised  spear  with 
his  other  hand  before  his  feet  had  touched  ground,  and 
broke  the  blade  close  off  by  the  socket ;  and  a  short  instant 
later,  when  he  had  found  a  footing,  he  carried  his  weight 
forward  in  the  same  leap,  and  drove  his  right  against  the 
negro's  left  carotid,  just  beneath  the  ear.  The  man  went 
down  as  if  he  had  been  pole-axed. 

Carter  went  outside  and  beckoned  to  the  Okky-man's 
carriers.  "  Here,  you,  come  and  carry  your  master  out- 
doors " — the  men  hesitated — "  or  I'll  start  in  to  handle  you 
next."  They  did  as  they  were  bidden.  And  thereupon 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  27 

Carter,  with  his  blood  now  well  warmed  up,  was  left  free 
to  attend  to  another  matter  elsewhere. 

A  noise  of  voices  in  disagreement,  and  the  intermittent 
sounds  of  scuffling  had  made  themselves  heard  from  the 
south  side  of  the  factory  buildings,  and  now  there  were 
added  to  these  a  woman's  voice  calling  in  English  for  some 
one  to  help  her,  and  then  a  sharp,  shrill  scream  of  unmis- 
takable distress. 

Now,  Carter  was  no  knight-errant.  He  had  set  up  the 
unknown  K.  O'Neill  as  his  model,  and  had  told  himself 
daily  that  he  intended  to  meddle  with  nothing  in  West 
Africa,  philanthropic  or  otherwise,  which  would  not  directly 
tend  to  the  advancement  of  George  Carter ;  but  at  the  first 
moment  when  they  were  put  to  the  test,  all  these  academic 
resolutions  broke  to  pieces.  He  picked  up  his  feet  and  ran 
at  speed  through  the  sunshine,  and  as  he  went  a  mist 
seemed  to  rise  up  before  his  eyes  which  tinged  everything 
red. 

He  felt  somehow  as  he  had  never  felt  before;  strangely 
exhilarated  and  strangely  savage;  and  when  he  arrived  on 
the  scene  of  the  disturbance,  he  was  little  inclined  to  weigh 
the  consequences  of  interference.  There  was  a  woman, 
white-faced  and  terror-stricken — he  could  not  for  the  life  of 
him  tell  whether  she  was  handsome  or  hideous.  Negroes 
were  handling  her.  On  the  ground  lay  a  pole  hammock,  in 
which  presumably  she  had  arrived.  In  front  of  her  was  a 
fat  negro,  over  whose  head  a  slave  held  a  gaudy  gold  and 
red  umbrella,  and  grouped  around  this  fat  one  were  eight  or 
ten  negro  soldiers,  with  swords  slung  over  their  shoulders, 
and  long  flintlock  trade  guns  in  their  hands. 

The  whole  scene  was,  as  I  say,  dished  up  to  Carter's  eyes 
in  a  red  mist,  and  this  thinned  and  thickened  spasmodically 
so  that  sometimes  he  could  see  clearly  what  he  was  doing, 
and  at  other  times  he  acted  like  a  man  bewitched.  But 


28  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

presently  the  red  cleared  away  altogether,  and  he  found 
himself  clutching  the  fat  negro  by  a  twist  of  the  shoulder 
cloth,  and  threatening  to  split  his  skull  with  a  sword  re- 
cently carried  by  one  of  the  man's  own  escort.  The  girl 
sat  limp  and  white  on  a  green  case  before  them,  clearly  on 
the  edge  of  a  faint,  and  round  them  all  stood  negro  carriers 
and  Hausa  soldiery,  frozen  to  inaction  by  the  fat  man's 
danger. 

All  human  noises  had  ceased.  Only  the  hot  insect  hum 
and  the  cool  diapason  of  the  Atlantic  surf  droned  through 
the  silence.  From  the  dull  upraised  sword  blade  outrageous 
sunrays  winked  and  flickered. 

Upon  this  impasse  came  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  from  the 
bush  side  of  the  white  factory  buildings,  polishing  his  eye- 
glass, and  limping  along  at  his  usual  pace,  and  no  faster. 
He  removed  his  pipe,  and  wagged  it  at  them. 

"  Upon  my  soul  a  most  interesting  picture !  Just  like  a 
kid's  fairy  tale  book.  Gallant  young  knight  rescuing  dis- 
tressed damosel  from  the  clutches  of  wicked  ogre,  who  in- 
cidentally happens  to  be  the  King  of  Okky  as  anyone  but  a 
born  fool  could  have  guessed  from  his  state  umbrella,  and 
one  of  the  firm's  best  customers.  Kindly  observe  that  I'm 
the  good  fairy  who  always  comes  in  on  the  last  page  to 
put  things  safe.  Carter,  I  prithee  sheath  thy  virgin  sword, 
and  then  for  God's  sake  run  away  and  drown  yourself." 

He  had  reached  the  group  by  this  time,  and  took  up  in 
his  own  the  damp  black  hand  of  offended  majesty,  and 
shook  it  heartily.  He  broke  out  in  a  stream  of  fluent  Okky, 
and  gradually  the  potentate's  wrath  melted.  The  King  still 
gesticulated  violently,  and  apparently  demanded  Carter's 
red  head  upon  a  charger  as  a  prelude  to  truce,  but  Swizzle- 
Stick  Smith  was  an  old  Coaster  and  knew  his  man. 

"  Champagne,"  Mr.  Smith  kept  on  suggesting,  "  bubbly 
champagne  with  plenty  of  Angostura  bitters  in  it  to  make 


29 

it  bite.  I  call  attention  to  your  Majesty's  historic  thirst 
Come  up  into  the  factory,  old  Tintacks,  and  we'll  break 
up  a  case  in  honor  of  the  day." 

Finally  the  King,  who  being  a  West  African  king  was 
necessarily  a  shrewd  man,  decided  that  though  vengeance 
would  keep  till  another  day,  Mr.  Smith's  champagne  might 
not;  and  he  let  himself  be  led  back  to  the  factory,  and 
up  the  stair.  He  graciously  accepted  the  most  solid-looking 
of  the  long  chairs  in  the  veranda,  sat  in  it  carefully,  kicked 
off  his  slippers,  and  tucked  his  feet  beneath  him.  He  waved 
away  Mr.  Smith's  further  speech.  "  Oh,  Smith/'  he  said, 
"  I  fit  for  champagne-palaver,  one-time,"  and  loosened  the 
tuck  of  his  ample  waist-cloth  to  give  space  for  the  expected 
cargo.  "  No  damn  use  more  talk-palaver  now." 

Outside  in  the  sunlight  the  Hausa  soldiers  had  taken  the 
cue  from  their  master,  and  dissolved  away  unobtrusively; 
the  carriers  were  dismissed  to  the  Krooboys'  quarters  under 
the  charge  of  White-Man's-Trouble,  who,  now  that  the 
disturbance  was  over,  bustled  up  with  many  protestations 
of  sorrow  for  his  unavoidable  absence,  and  Carter  was  left 
for  further  attendance  on  his  distressed  damsel. 

For  the  first  time  he  found  himself  able  to  regard  her 
critically;  and  he  was  somehow  rather  disturbed  to  find 
before  him  a  girl  who  was  undeniably  beautiful.  When  he 
had  rushed  blindly  in  to  the  rescue,  he  had  taken  it  for 
granted  that  the  person  he  saw  so  vaguely  through  that  red 
mist  was  an  English  or  an  American  missionary  woman 
in  distress,  and  (to  himself)  excused  his  mad  lust  for  bat- 
tle by  picturing  himself  as  the  champion  of  the  Christian 
martyr  beset  by  pagans. 

The  white  missionary  women  of  that  strip  of  the  Coast 
occasionally  quartered  themselves  at  Malla-Nulla  factory 
on  their  journeyings,  in  spite  of  the  very  niggardly  civility 
of  Mr.  Smith,  and  Carter  had  been  much  impressed  in  the 


30  KATE    MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

way  beneficent  Nature  had  safeguarded  them  by  homely 
features  and  unattractive  mien  from  attack  by  the  other 
sex.  He  could  have  taken  off  his  hat  to  one  of  these,  and 
said: 

"Most  happy  to  have  been  of  service  to  you,  madam. 
Won't  you  come  into  the  factory  and  have  a  cup  of  tea  ?  " 

But  this  slim  beauty  in  the  frilled  white  muslins  sent 
speech  further  and  further  away  from  him  the  more  that 
he  looked  at  her.  For  the  first  time  since  landing  in  Africa 
six  months  before  he  was  ashamed  of  mildew-stained  py- 
jamas for  afternoon  wear,  and  disgusted  with  the  yellow 
smears  of  palm  oil  which  bedaubed  them.  He  was  hatefully 
aware  too  that  he  had  let  his  razors  rust  in  the  moist  Coast 
climate,  and  White-Man' s-Trouble's  fortnightly  efforts  with 
the  clippers  had  merely  left  his  chin  and  head  covered  with 
an  obscene  red  bristle. 

" .  .  .  It  would  be  ridiculous,"  the  girl  was  murmur- 
ing, "merely  to  say  ' thank  you'  for  what  you  did,  Mr. 
Carter.  You  see  I  know  your  name.  News  about  new- 
comers soon  spreads  amongst  the  other  factories  on  the 
Coast  here.  If  you  only  knew  how  I  dread  that  fearful 
King,  you  would  understand  my  gratitude.  You  see  this 
isn't  the  first  time  he's  tried  to  carry  me  off." 

"I  wish  you'd  mentioned  it  earlier,"  Carter  blurted 
out,  "  and  I'd  have  split  his  dirty  skull,  trade  or  no  trade." 

She  shook  her  head.  "  No,  that  wouldn't  have  done. 
There's  the  law  to  be  thought  of  even  here.  Besides,  he's  a 
King,  and  could  let  loose,  so  they  say,  twenty  thousand 
fighting  men  against  the  Coast  factories,  and  wipe  them 
out.  If  only  I  could  get  away  to  some  place  he  couldn't 
reach !  "  She  shivered.  "  If  I  stay  on  here  at  my  father's 
factory,  I'm  bound  to  be  caught  and  taken  to  Okky  City." 

Carter's  brown  eyes  opened  in  sheer  surprise.  "  You 
speak  of  your  father's  factory.  Do  you  mean  to  say  that 
you  live  here  on  the  Coast  ?  " 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  31 

"  At  the  Smooth  River  factory/' 

"What,  Slade's  place?" 

"  Yes,  I'm  Laura  Slade.    Couldn't  you  guess  ?  " 

"  How  could  I  ?  "  Carter  blurted  out.  "  Mr.  Smith  told 
me  that  Slade's  girl — "  And  there  he  stopped,  and  could 
have  bitten  off  his  tongue  for  having  said  so  much. 

She  finished  his  sentence  quietly,  and,  as  it  appeared, 
without  resentment.  "  Mr.  Smith,  I  suppose,  described  me 
as  a  nigger." 

Carter  made  no  reply.  His  brown  eyes  hung  upon  her 
pretty  face  intently. 

"  Mr.  Smith,  of  course,  knew  my  father,  and  my  mother, 
too,  for  that  matter,  before  I  was  born.  My  mother  was  a 
quadroon,  and  that  makes  me,  you  see,  one-eighth  African." 

"You  did  not  arrange  your  pedigree  any  more  than  I 
did  mine.  If  you  hadn't  told  me,  I  should  never  have 
guessed  you  weren't  a  full-blooded  European.  And  after 
all,  what  does  it  matter  ?  " 

"  There  speaks  the  man  who  has  only  been  out  on  the 
Coast  six  months." 

"  Six  months  or  six  years,"  said  Carter  stoutly,  "  makes 
no  difference  so  far  as  I  am  concerned.  We're  neighbors, 
it  appears,  and  I  hope  you  will  let  me  be  one  of  your 
friends.  Miss  Slade,  will  you  take  compassion  on  a  very 
lonely  man  and  let  him  come  over  to  Smooth  River  occa- 
sionally and  see  you  ?  I  can't  tell  you  how  ghastly  the  lone- 
liness has  been  with  only  the  Krooboys  and  Mr. — er — 
Swizzle-Stick  Smith  to  talk  to,  though  perhaps  you  can 
guess  at  it  by  the  way  I've  let  my  outward  man  run  to  seed." 

She  gave  him  her  slim  brown  hand.  "  I  take  frankly 
what  you  offer,"  she  said.  "  If  you  let  me  become  your 
friend,  I  shall  count  myself  fortunate ;  you  see,  after  what 
you  have  done  for  me  to-day  we  can  hardly  start  from  the 
ordinary  basis." 


32  KATE   MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEB 

From  there  onwards  their  talk  flowed  easily.  She  had 
come  over  on  a  business  errand  for  her  father,  and  Carter 
settled  that  quickly  and  promptly.  She  went  presently  into 
the  factory  to  rest  after  her  long  hammock  ride,  and  Carter 
seized  upon  the  chance  to  dive  into  his  own  room.  There- 
from he  emerged  an  hour  later  with  a  chin  half -raw  from 
recent  shaving  with  a  rusty  razor,  and  wearing  creased 
white  drill  clothes  and  a  linen  collar  that  sawed  his  neck 
abominably. 

"  I've  arranged,"  he  said,  when  next  he  saw  her,  "  that 
you  and  I  dine  tete-a-tete,  if  you  don't  mind,  down  under 
those  palm  trees  yonder.  The  mosquitos  don't  trouble  down 
there  just  at  sunset,  and  my  boy,  White-Man's-Trouble,  only 
tastes  things  when  they're  going  back  to  the  cook  house. 
It's  mere  prejudice  to  say  he's  had  his  filthy  paw  in  every 
dish  before  it  comes  to  me.  Oh,  by  the  way,  Mr.  Smith 
and  his  Majesty  of  Okky  ask  you  to  excuse  them,  as  they 
have  still  more  business  to  discuss  before  they  can  break  up 
their  meeting." 

She  laughed  and  understood  him  to  a  nicety.  They 
slipped  off  into  light  easy  talk  as  though  they  had  known 
one  another  all  their  lives,  and  there  was  neither  that  nar- 
row escape  from  tragedy  behind  them,  nor  Africa  and  pos- 
sible tragedy  ahead.  The  girl  was  good  comrade.  The  man 
was  hardly  that.  He  too  frankly  devoured  her  with  his 
eyes.  And  certainly,  in  her  cool,  frilled  muslin  dress,  and 
her  big  green  sun  hat  she  was  pretty  enough  to  paint.  Her 
hair  was  black  assuredly,  but  her  pale  olive  face  was  moulded 
in  curves  of  the  most  delicious.  In  England,  and  as  an 
Englishwoman,  she  would  have  been  dark  perhaps,  though 
not  noticeably  so.  Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  English 
people  out  of  the  thousand  would  have  commented  on  her 
beauty  only.  In  America — well,  in  America,  she  would  at 
once  have  been  placed  in  that  class  apart. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  33 

But  Carter,  the  recently  imported  Englishman,  saw  noth- 
ing save  only  her  beauty  and  her  charm,  and  he  behaved 
towards  her  as  the  English  gentleman  behaves  towards  his 
equal.  A  man  who  had  been  longer  in  Africa  would  have 
had  the  wisdom  of  one  who  had  lived  in  the  Southern 
States,  and  have  picked  out  the  African  blood  at  a  glance, 
and,  as  is  the  way  of  men  who  have  eaten  of  the  tree  of 
that  wisdom,  would  have  ordered  his  civilities  accordingly. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    KING    WHO    STOPPED    THE    ROADS 

MR.  SMITH  was  unsteady  neither  of  speech  nor  foot,  but 
an  expert  could  have  diagnosed  that  he  had  been  dining. 
The  expert,  however,  unless  he  had  acquired  his  expert- 
ness  near  Malla-Nulla  factory,  would  hardly  have  guessed 
that  Mr.  Smith  was  the  better  (or  worse)  for  at  least  half 
a  case  of  German  champagne,  generously  laced  with  An- 
gostura bitters. 

He  limped  into  Carter's  bedroom,  put  his  lamp  down  on 
the  table,  sat  on  the  chair  beside  the  mosquito  bar,  and 
very  carefully  eased  up  the  knees  of  his  shrunk  pyjamas. 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Assistant,  wake  up." 

Carter  woke,  and  blinked  at  the  glare  of  Mr.  Smith's 
eyeglass. 

"  Don't  get  up,  please.  I  apologize  for  waking  you,  my 
dear  follow,  but  since  you  turned  in,  you've  been  made  a 
pawn  in  the  great  game  of  diplomacy.  The  fate  of  em- 
pires trembles  on  your  nod." 

Carter  roused  up  onto  his  elbow.  "  Don't  you  think  the 
empires  would  tremble  no  more  if  we  left  them  over  till 
to-morrow  morning  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  most  undiplomatic  to  leave  them  trembling 
too  long.  I  can  tell  you  I  have  had  a  devilish  hard  time 
of  it  putting  his  Majesty  to  sleep.  He  can  carry  his  liquor 
like  a  man,  and  he'd  a  most  royal  way  of  seeing  I  drank 
level  with  him.  But  he  may  wake  up  any  minute.  Put 
not  your  trust  in  the  sleep  of  kings,  Mr.  Carter." 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  35 

"  All  right,  sir.  I'll  make  a  note  of  that.  I'll  brew  the 
gasolene,  and  when  the  King  wakes  I'll  stand  by  with  soda- 
water  and  fusel  oil,  which  I  should  think  will  heal  the 
breach  between  us." 

"Don't  you  believe  it  for  one  instant.  The  King  of 
Okky's  a  seasoned  vessel  with  a  copper  tummy,  and  you 
could  no  more  thaw  the  wickedness  out  of  him  with  soda- 
water  than  you  could  bring  the  devil  to  a  reformed  tem- 
perature in  an  ice  machine.  You  must  recognize,  Mr.  Car- 
ter, that  both  the  King  of  Okky  and  the  devil  have  their 
little  ways,  and  it's  above  your  art  to  change  either  of 
them  very  much.  Question  is,  how  much  allegiance  do  you 
think  you  owe  to  O'Neill  and  Craven  ?  " 

This  was  a  change  of  front  with  a  vengeance.  But  Car- 
ter took  it  coolly  enough.  "  That's  an  interesting  point, 
sir.  I  hadn't  reckoned  it  up  before.  But  I  shouldn't  like 
to  give  you  an  answer  to  so  important  a  question  about 
the  firm  on  the  spur  of  the  moment.  So  by  your  leave,  I'll 
sleep  over  it,  and  tell  you  in  the  morning." 

"  Sorry,  but  can't  allow  you  the  time,  and  as  you  don't 
seem  to  grasp  the  fact,  I  must  point  out  that  the  fate  of 
this  factory  of  O'Neill  and  Craven's  at  Malla-Nulla  de- 
pends on  the  august  will  of  the  King  of  Okky.  His  Port- 
liness also  threatens  to  stop  the  roads  which  feed  our  other 
factories  at  Monktown  and  Smooth  River,  though  I  don't 
think  when  it  comes  to  the  point  he'll  do  that.  However, 
Burgoyne  and  Slade  must  see  to  those  themselves.  After 
the  way  this  new  K.  O'Neill's  been  treating  me  on  paper, 
I'm  not  going  to  concern  myself  with  the  general  welfare 
of  all  the  firm's  factories  on  this  coast.  But  I  am  in  charge 
of  Malla-Nulla,  and  I'm  going  to  preserve  the  trade  here 
from  extinction  if  it  can  be  managed." 

Carter  lifted  the  mosquito  bar  and  got  out  of  bed.  "  I'm 
afraid,  sir,  I  must  ask  you  to  come  down  to  my  level,  and 
speak  rather  more  plainly." 


36  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

Swizzle-Stick  Smith  sat  back  resignedly  in  his  chair,  and 
dropped  his  eyeglass  to  the  end  of  its  black  watered  silk 
ribbon.  "  Dulce  et  decorum  est  pro  factoria  mori,  though 
I  don't  suppose  it  will  come  to  dying  if  you  play  your 
cards  right."  Mr.  Smith  closed  his  eyes  and  evidently 
imagined  that  he  was  uttering  his  next  thought  silently. 
"Keep  the  young  beggar  out  of  the  way  of  Slade's  girl, 
too.  By  Gad,  I'd  no  idea  Laura  would  grow  up  such  a 
pretty  child.  If  he'd  been  an  ordinary  clerk  I  wouldn't 
have  minded,  but  the  lad's  a  gentleman  by  birth,  and  now 
he's  done  the  gallant  rescue  business  as  a  start,  he's  just 
the  sort  of  quixotic  young  ass  to  think  he  ought  to  go 
and  marry  the  girl  as  a  proper  capping  for  the  romance. 
And  that  of  course  would  be  the  end  of  him  socially." 

"  I  say,"  Carter  called  out  loudly,  "  Mr.  Smith,  do  you 
know  it's  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  there  are  some 
dangerous  chills  about  just  now  ?  Don't  you  think  you  had 
better  have  a  cigarette  paper  full  of  quinine  by  way  of  a 
night  cap,  and  then  go  to  bed?  It  will  be  turning-out 
time  in  another  hour  or  so." 

"  Matches,  please.  My  pipe's  out.  Ah,  thank  you,  Mr. 
Carter.  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  the  King's  awfully  taken 
with  that  punkah  you  rigged  for  the  mess-room,  and  the 
water  wheel  you  set  up  in  the  river  to  run  it,  and  when 
I  showed  him  the  native  arrowheads,  and  the  spears,  and 
the  execution  axes  you'd  made  to  sell  to  the  curiosity  shops 
at  home,  he  began  to  change  his  tune.  By  the  time  we'd 
got  to  the  fifth  bottle  he'd  given  up  asking  for  your  head 
in  a  calabash  to  take  home  with  him,  and  before  we'd 
finished  the  case  he'd  offered  you  the  post  of  Chief  Com- 
missioner of  Works  in  Okky  City,  with  a  salary  in  produce 
and  quills  of  gold  that'll  work  out  to  £1,000  a  year." 

"  That's  very  flattering." 

"  Yes,  isn't  it,  when  you  remember  how  he  started.    The 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  37 

only  question  is,  will  he  keep  his  royal  word  when  he's 
sober  ?  " 

"  It's  a  nice  point.  Among  other  things  I  believe  they're 
cannibals  up  in  Okky  City." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Mr.  Assistant,  you  mustn't  malign  my 
friend,  the  King,  too  much.  You  need  have  no  fears  on 
that  score.  The  Okky  men  have  never  been  known  to  eat 
anybody  with  a  red  head.  The  only  thing  you'd  have  to 
funk  would  be  sacrifice — with,  of  course,  a  most  full  and 
impressive  ceremony.  So  I  think  you'll  go,  eh?  All  for 
the  sake  of  K.  O'Neill,  whom  you  admire  so  much?  And 
then  the  King  won't  stop  the  roads." 

"No,"  said  Carter  shortly.  "I  have  no  intention  of 
committing  suicide  at  present.  But  if  I'm  an  embarrass- 
ment at  Malla-Nulla,  you  may  fire  me,  or  I'll  resign  if 
you  wish  it." 

Swizzle-Stick  Smith  screwed  his  eyeglass  into  place  and 
examined  his  assistant  with  thoughtful  care.  "  Shouldn't 
dream  of  letting  you  go,  my  dear  fellow.  Always  make  a 
point  of  sticking  by  my  officers.  Just  thought  I'd  let  you 
know  of  the  King's  offer  in  case  his  Majesty  refers  to  it 
to-morrow.  There  now,  go  to  bed  again,  and  don't  dream 
the  fighting's  begun.  You'll  see  plenty  of  service  over  this 
affair  without  dreaming  over  it  on  ahead." 

When  Carter  set  out  for  the  West  Coast  of  Africa  from 
the  Upper  Wharfedale  Vicarage,  the  one  article  in  his  kit 
which  he  thought  suitable  for  the  Coast  was  a  small-bore 
nickel-plated  revolver,  which  he  had  picked  up  second  hand 
in  Skipton  for  ten  and  six.  It  had  been  smuggled  in 
without  his  mother's  knowledge,  as  there  was  no  reason  to 
add  to  her  already  great  anxiety.  His  father  had  provided 
half  a  sovereign  towards  the  cost,  had  advised  him  not  to 
use  the  wretched  thing  except  in  case  of  necessity,  but  if 
need  arose,  to  take  heed  that  he  held  it  straight. 


38  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

Of  course  on  arrival  he  found,  firstly,  that  the  weapon 
was  too  small  to  be  of  effective  use ;  secondly,  that  he  could 
not  hit  a  mark  six  fet  square  at  more  than  a  twelve-yard 
rise;  and,  thirdly,  that  revolvers  are  not  really  articles  of 
fashionable  wear  for  clerks  in  West  Coast  factories,  what- 
ever they  may  be  in  story-books.  So  the  weapon  lay  in 
his  mouldy  portmanteau,  and  the  moist  Coast  climate 
changed  its  nickel  dress  for  a  good  coat  of  bright  red  rust. 

But  the  morning  after  the  King  of  Okky's  arrival,  while 
that  bulky  potentate  was  still  asleep  in  the  factory,  Carter 
went  in,  cleaned  the  revolver  as  well  as  he  could,  and 
jammed  cartridges  into  its  reluctant  chambers.  He  carried 
it  pirate-fashion  for  the  remainder  of  that  day  inside  the 
band  of  his  trousers,  to  his  great  personal  discomfort,  and 
to  the  vast  enjoyment  of  Mr.  Smith.  However,  the  trucu- 
lent Okky  soldiers  who  had  deliberately  shaken  weapons  at 
him  in  the  morning  were  reduced  by  the  sight  of  it  to  a 
certain  surly  civility,  and  work  in  the  feteesh  went  on 
without  any  open  rupture. 

Mr.  Smith  was  distinctly  irritable  when  dawn  came  in 
with  the  morning  tea,  but  presently,  when  the  swizzle-stick 
began  its  merry  swishing  in  the  cocktail  pitcher,  he  thawed 
into  a  pleasing  geniality,  which,  by  frequent  application 
of  the  same  remedy,  endured  throughout  the  day.  Laura 
Slade  had  returned  in  her  hammock  by  the  beach  road  in 
the  cool  of  the  preceding  night,  and  Carter's  thoughts  fol- 
lowed her  to  Smooth  Kiver  factory,  to  the  detriment  of  his 
work  down  in  the  feteesh.  He  gave  no  mental  attention 
whatever  to  the  King  of  Okky  who  sat  cross-legged  in  a 
long  chair  in  the  factory  veranda  above  him,  but  that 
bulky  potentate  kept  returning  with  a  dogged  persistency 
to  the  subject  of  George  Carter. 

"  Oh,  Smith/'  he  kept  on  saying,  "  I  savvy  champagne 
palaver,  n'  I  savvy  cocktail  palaver,  n'  I  fit  for  chop  when 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  39 

chop-time  lib.  But  I  ask  you  for  tell  me,  one-time,  if  you 
fit  for  dash  me  dem  Eed-head  that  savvies  machine-palaver. 
If  you  no  fit,  I  stop  dem  road,  an'  no  more  trade  lib  for 
Malla-Nulla." 

To  which  Mr.  Smith,  who  knew  his  West  Africa  from  a 
twenty-five  years'  study  of  its  men  and  customs,  would 
reply  with  an  unruffled  geniality  that  he  was  sure  the  King 
was  far  too  good  a  heathen  to  try  any  such  dirty  game  as 
putting  ju-ju  on  the  factory  of  an  old  friend.  "You're 
pulling  my  leg,  old  Cockiwax,"  Mr.  Smith  would  say.  "  I 
pray  you  cease,  and  you  shall  have  the  best  cocktail  this 
pagan  Coast  has  seen  or  sniffed." 

"  Oh,  Smith,"  the  King  would  say,  "  I  fit,"  and  there- 
after there  would  be  truce  till  the  houseboy  brought  the 
ingredients,  and  Mr.  Smith  with  his  far-famed  skill  com- 
pounded them,  and  the  pink  cocktails  went  their  appointed 
journey  to  perform  their  accustomed  work.  After  which 
the  African  would  once  more  repeat  his  unwearied  de- 
mand. 

From  the  rising  of  the  King  from  his  mat,  to  the  hour 
of  the  midday  meal,  this  demand  and  reply  went  on,  and 
Swizzle-Stick  Smith  parried  it  with  unruffled  serenity. 
But  an  open  rupture  very  nearly  came  at  the  meal  time. 
As  a  king,  the  visitor  was  invited  to  sit  at  meat  with  the 
white  men  in  their  mess-room.  He  said  little  during  the 
meal,  but  he  appraised  Carter's  head  so  persistently  with 
his  eyes  that  that  irritated  young  man,  with  the  pride  of 
race  bubbling  within  him,  would  have  openly  resented  the 
performance  if  he  had  not  given  a  promise  to  Mr.  Smith 
on  this  very  point  only  a  short  half-hour  before. 

Such  a  state  of  things  could  not  last  long  without  bring- 
ing about  an  open  breach,  and  Swizzle-Stick  Smith,  with 
his  vast  experience,  saw  this  earlier  than  anybody,  and  made 
his  arrangements  accordingly. 


40  KATE    MEEEDITH,   FINANCIER 

He  tried  hard  to  write  a  letter,  but  his  pen  was  not  in 
the  mood  for  intelligent  calligraphy.  So  he  had  to  fall 
back  on  verbal  instructions  and  a  verbal  message. 

"  Mr.  Assistant/'  he  said,  when  at  last  he  put  down  his 
knife  and  fork,  and  the  houseboy  handed  him  his  pipe 
and  a  match,  "  Mr.  Assistant,  I  intended  to  make  you  a 
bearer  of  dispatches,  but  the  gout's  got  into  my  confounded 
fingers  this  morning,  and  I  doubt  if  even  Slade  could  read 
my  writing.  So  we'll  just  have  to  do  the  thing  informally. 
We  must  have  some  more  of  that  spot-white-on-blue  cloth, 
and  you  must  post  off  to  the  Smooth  River  factory  and 
bring  it  back  with  you.  It  seems  to  be  in  heavy  demand 
just  now,  though  why,  I  can't  imagine.  I've  been  on  the 
Coast  twenty-five  years  now,  and  I  can  no  more  foretell 
the  run  of  native  fashions  than  I  could  the  day  I  landed. 
But  there  it  is,  and  though  I'm  sure  Slade  won't  want  to 
part,  you  must  just  make  him.  Say  we'll  pay  him  back 
in  salt.  He's  sure  to  be  short  of  salt.  I  never  yet  knew 
Slade  to  indent  for  half  as  many  bags  of  salt  as  his  trade 
required.  You  needn't  hurry.  If  you're  back  here  in  three 
days'  time  that  will  be  quite  soon  enough.  You  can  take 
a  hammock,  of  course." 

"  Thanks,  very  much,  but  I'd  rather  walk." 

"  Well,  just  as  you  please.  You  must  commandeer  what 
carriers  you  want  from  Slade." 

So  it  came  to  pass  that  when  the  sun  had  dropped  to  a 
point  whence  it  could  throw  a  decent  shadow,  and  the  sea 
breeze  mingled  a  bracing  chill  even  into  a  temperature  of 
eighty,  Carter  set  off  along  the  beach,  with  White-Man's- 
Trouble  balancing  a  mildew-mottled  Gladstone  bag  on  his 
smartly-shaved  cranium,  in  attendance.  On  one  side  of 
him  Africa  was  fenced  off  by  a  wall  of  impenetrable  green- 
ery; on  the  other  the  Atlantic  bumped  and  roared  and 
creamed  along  the  glaring  sand.  On  the  horizon  the  smoke 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  41 

of  a  Liverpool  palm  oil  tank  called  from  him  the  usual 
Coaster's  sigh. 

"  Oh,  Carter,"  said  his  valet  when  they  had  left  the  fac- 
tory buildings  well  out  of  earshot,  "  you  plenty-much  fine, 
and  you  no  lib  for  steamah." 

"  It  was  about  time  I  tidied  up.  When  we  get  back  to 
the  factory  I'll  teach  you  how  to  pipe-clay  shoes." 

The  Krooboy  thought  over  this  proposition  for  some 
minutes.  Then  said  he :  "I  fit  for  tell  you,  Carter,  dem 
last  white  man  I  pipe-clay  shoes  for,  he  lib  for  cemetery 
in  two  week.  Savvy,  Carter?  Two  week." 

"All  right,  don't  get  so  emphatic.  I  wasn't  doubting 
you.  But  I'm  going  to  risk  the  cemetery  all  the  same. 
You  may  start  by  providing  me  with  one  pair  of  clean 
shoes  a  day,  and  when  I  get  the  taste  of  cleanliness  again, 
maybe  I'll  run  to  two.  Savvy  ?  " 

"  Savvy  plenty,"  grumbled  White-Man's-Trouble,  and 
then  presently.  "  You  no  fit  for  steamah  palaver  ?  You 
no  lib  for  home  ?  " 

"  No,  I'm  not  going  home  yet  awhile." 

"  But  you  plenty-much  fine." 

"  Yes,"  admitted  Carter,  "  I  caught  sight  of  myself  in 
mildewed  pyjamas  and  a  fortnight's  beard,  and  was  struck 
with  the  general  filthiness  of  my  personal  appearance. 
Savvy?" 

"  Savvy  plenty.  Oh,  Carter,  you  lib  for  wife-palaver  ? 
Dem  plenty-much  fine  clothes  always  one  of  the  customs 
before  wife-palaver." 

The  Krooboy  pondered  over  this  discovery  during  the 
next  two  miles  of  the  march,  and  then  said  he,  "  Oh,  Car- 
ter?" 

"Well?" 

"  Dem  Slade.    You  savvy  seegar  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so.    Why  ?  " 


42  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"I  see  Smith  dash  dem  Slade  one  box  seegar  an'  he 
got  what  Slade  said  '  no  fit '  for  before.  Oh,  Carter,  you 
dash  dem  Slade  one  box  seegar,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble, 
and  he  treated  his  employer  to  a  knowing  wink. 

"Whatever  for?" 

"Because  then,  after  he  got  dem  seegar,  he  sell  you 
Laura  for  half  dem  price  he  ask  before." 

"You're  an  impertinent  savage,"  said  Carter  half 
tickled,  half  annoyed. 

But  White-Man's-Trouble  stopped,  put  down  the  yellow 
Gladstone  bag  on  the  baking  sand,  and  pointed  to  the 
blue  parallel  tribal  tattoo  marks  between  his  brows.  "  I 
Krooboy,  sar.  I  no  bushboy,  sar!  I  lib  for  educate  as 
deckboy  an'  stan'-by-at-crane  boy  on  steamah,  sar.  I  no  fit 
for  stay  with  you,  sar,  if  you  call  me  impertinent  savage." 

Carter  stared.  "  Good  heavens,  man !  I  didn't  intend  to 
hurt  your  feelings." 

White-Man's-Trouble  waved  the  bleached  inside  of  his 
paw  towards  his  master.  "  Oh,  Carter,  you  apologize. 
Palaver  set."  He  bowed  a  head  which  was  quaintly  shaved 
into  garden  patches,  replaced  the  Gladstone  bag  on  its 
central  bed  of  wool,  and  once  more  strode  cheerfully  ahead. 

Carter  followed  moodily.  How  had  they  all  guessed  at 
his  admiration  for  Laura?  He  had  thought  it  the  most 
intimate  of  secrets,  a  delicate  confidence  that  he  had  no  more 
than  dared  breathe  even  to  his  own  inner  consciousness. 
But  first  old  Smith  had  blurted  it  out,  and  now  even 
his  servant  talked  about  it  openly.  He  had  no  doubt  what- 
ever that  the  whole  thing  had  been  fully  discussed  over 
the  cooking  fires  of  the  native  compound  at  Malla-Nulla 
the  night  before. 

Then  somehow  his  eyes  swung  round  to  the  dancing 
horizon,  and  the  Liverpool  steamer's  smoke,  boring  up 
towards  the  North,  easily  ferried  his  thoughts  across  the 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  43 

gap  which  lay  between  that  baking  African  beach,  and  the 
cool  village  tucked  snugly  in  beneath  the  Upper  Wharfedale 
moors.  He  tried  to  concentrate  his  mind  on  the  roses  in 
the  vicarage  garden.  His  mother  liked  abundance  of 
blooms,  and  cared  little  about  the  size.  The  Vicar  ad- 
mired big  blooms  and  snipped  off  superfluous  buds  when 
his  wife  was  out  of  the  way,  and  during  summer  a  gentle 
wrangle  over  the  roses  was  quite  one  of  the  features  of 
their  quiet  life. 

But  the  roses  refused  to  stay  in  the  centre  of  the  pic- 
ture. Laura  insisted  on  taking  their  place.  Suppose  he 
took  Laura  back  to  Wharfedale — as  Mrs.  George  Carter. 
His  mother,  blessed  woman,  might  be  sorry,  but  she  would 
accept  her.  He  was  sure  of  that.  But  his  father  ?  Almost 
the  last  piece  of  advice  the  Vicar  had  given  on  parting 
was: 

"Now,  lad,  remember  always  you're  a  white  man,  and 
don't  get  mixed  up  with  any.  woman  who  owns  a  single 
drop  of  blood  darker  than  your  own.  If  you  do,  you  can 
never  come  back  here,  and  you'll  hate  yourself  all  the  rest 
of  your  life.  Remember  I  held  an  Indian  chaplaincy  be- 
fore I  got  this  living,  and  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about." 

Carter  shook  a  sudden  fist  at  the  steamer's  smoke  for 
supplying  him  with  such  a  distasteful  train  of  thought, 
and  turned  for  light  conversation  to  White-Man's-Trouble. 
That  garrulous  person  was  quite  ready  to  humor  him  in 
the  matter. 

The  sea  breeze  died  away  a  little  after  six,  and  they 
marched  in  breathless  heat  till  the  cool  land  breeze  took 
its  place,  and  brought  them  spicy  odors  of  the  inland  trees. 
And  always  on  one  side  of  them  the  surf  roared,  and 
crashed,  and  creamed  along  the  beaches. 

The  sun  drooped  to  the  horizon  and  hurried  beneath  it 
in  visible  inches  of  fall.  Daylight  went  out.  The  colors 


44  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

were  blotted  from  the  sky,  and  the  stars  lit  up,  one  racing 
another  to  be  first.  The  noises  from  the  forest  changed 
in  correspondence.  From  close  at  hand  a  leopard  roared 
a  greeting  to  the  darkness. 

Night  was  fully  dressed  ten  minutes  after  the  sun  had 
vanished.  It  was  after  nine  o'clock,  and  in  the  chill  of  a 
wet  gray  mist,  that  they  reached  O'Neill  and  Craven's  fac- 
tory on  the  banks  of  Smooth  River. 

Now  nine  o'clock  in  the  lonely  factories  of  the  Coast  is 
usually  bed  time,  and  Carter  was  a  good  deal  surprised  to 
hear  the  hum  of  a  great  activity  pulsing  out  into  the  night ; 
and  presently,  when  they  came  within  eye-range,  to  see 
the  buildings  aglow  with  lights.  But  there  was  a  further 
surprise  packed  and  ready  for  him.  As  they  came  close, 
a  black  man  leaned  over  the  end  of  an  upraised  wall  of 
palm  oil  puncheons,  and  deliberately  pointed  a  gun  squarely 
at  Carter's  chest. 

A  good  deal  of  discussion  took  place  afterward  as  to 
what  would  have  been  the  proper  procedure  under  the 
circumstances,  but  that  may  conveniently  be  omitted  from 
this  record,  which  deals  only  with  immediate  history;  and 
the  fact  is  that  Carter  rushed  the  sentry,  clipped  him  un- 
der the  ear,  skinned  his  own  knuckles,  and  captured  the 
gun.  White-Man's-Trouble  in  the  meanwhile  had  with 
much  presence  of  mind  thrown  himself  on  his  face  to 
avoid  any  discharge  of  pot-leg  from  the  concealed  marks- 
men, and  was  bawling  lustily  for  "  Slade,  oh  Slade,"  to 
"  Stop  dem  dam  gun-palaver."  Which  noisy  request  pres- 
ently had  its  wished  for  result. 

Slade  himself  came  out  to  meet  them,  and  even  then 
his  reception  was  sufficiently  startling.  "  Good  God !  "  he 
rapped  out,  "then  you've  escaped,  too,  Carter,  as  well  as 
the  Krooboy.  What  liars  these  niggers  are!  I  imagined 
that  your — that  parts  of  you  were  up  at  Okky  City  by  now. 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  45 

I  supposed  they've  scuppered  poor  old  Swizzle-Stick  Smith 
all  right,  though  ?  Did  he  have  a  bad  time  of  it  ?  Why  ?  " 
he  said  as  he  came  nearer,  and  saw  his  caller's  spruce  get- 
up,  "  you  don't  look  as  if  you'd  been  scrapping  much.  Or 
bolting  very  hard,  either,"  he  added  as  an  afterthought. 

"  Unless,"  said  Carter,  "  you're  referring  to  an  invasion 
by  the  Turks,  or  the  French,  or  the  Men  in  the  Moon,  I 
haven't  a  notion  what  you're  talking  about." 

"  Haven't  you  come  from  Malla-Nulla  ?  " 

"  Left  there  about  a  quarter  to  four." 

"  And  hasn't  it  been  sacked  ?  " 

"  It  was  sitting  down  by  the  beach,  looking  just  as  white 
hot  as  usual,  and  no  more,  when  I  left." 

"  What  about  the  King  of  Okky,  then  ?  " 

"  He  was  there  at  Malla-Nulla,  filling  a  very  big  chair 
on  the  veranda." 

"  And  there  has  been  no  raid  ?     I  don't  understand." 

"  The  King  of  Okky,"  said  Carter  patiently,  "  has  raided 
our  factory  to  the  extent  of  one  case  of  fizz,  of  which  Mr. 
Smith  says  he  drank  half,  but  barring  that,  and  about  six 
gallons  of  other  mixed  drinks,  I  didn't  see  him  get  much 
out  of  us.  He  certainly  was  threatening  to  stop  the  roads 
when  I  left,  but  I  think  that  was  all  gas.  He  only  wanted 
to  stick  Mr.  Smith  for  more  drinks." 

"  He's  stopped  the  roads  right  enough." 

"  Not  he,"  said  Carter  cheerfully. 

The  older  man  thought  a  minute  and  then,  "  Come  along 
with  me,"  he  said.  "  I  guess  ocular  demonstration  is  about 
the  only  thing  that  will  convince  you  that  there  is  mis- 
chief in  the  air,  and  that  that  crafty  old  devil  of  a  king 
is  at  the  bottom  of  it."  He  led  to  a  factory  outbuilding, 
threw  open  a  door,  and  scraped  a  match.  "  Look  in  there." 

Carter  did  so,  and  promptly  felt  sick,  and  came  out. 
But  he  got  another  light  and  returned  resolutely  to  the 


46  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER 

inspection.  "Two,  four,  seven.  And  all  killed  the  same 
way.  I  say  that's  pretty  ghastly." 

"  Isn't  it  ?  They  were  all  fine  healthy  Krooboys  when 
they  marched  out  of  here  this  morning,  carrying  up  some 
salt  bags  to  our  sub-factory  on  the  Okky  road.  There  were 
some  bits  of  feathers  and  a  rag  or  two  strung  up  alongside 
the  path,  and  they  didn't  notice  them,  or  didn't  tumble  to 
it  that  they  were  ju-ju.  Consequently  they  are  now  what 
you  see.  This  is  the  King  of  Okky's  way  of  hinting  that 
the  road  is  stopped.  That  pot-leg  must  have  been  fired 
at  not  more  than  a  two-yard  range.  Some  of  the  poor 
devils  are  regularly  blown  inside  out.  Here,  come  into  the 
open  again." 

"  Thanks,  you  needn't  give  me  the  details  over  again. 
I  saw  all  that  for  myself." 

"  That  infernal  King  must  have  sent  off  his  messengers 
the  very  moment  after  you  had  that  turn-up  with  him 
about  Laura — which,  by  the  way,  is  a  thing  that  I  person- 
ally shall  never  forget,  so  you  can  draw  on  me  over  that 
down  to  the  last  breeches  button.  You  see  Okky  City  is 
closer  in  at  the  back  here,  but  it's  quite  five  hours'  march 
further  from  Malla-Nulla.  So  the  treacherous  old  brute 
stayed  where  he  was,  tippling  with  Smith,  in  the  pious 
hope  of  keeping  you  all  quiet  till  his  men  could  come  down 
and  blot  you  all  out.  How  you  got  through  is  a  marvel  to 
me.  They  must  have  reckoned  on  getting  you  as  you 
walked  here  along  the  beach  or  they'd  never  have  let  you 
slip  away.  You  and  your  boy  have  certainly  escaped  by 
the  skin  of  your  teeth.  It's  a  moral  certainty  that  they've 
got  old  Smith." 

"I  don't  think  so.    But  I  shall  go  back  and  see." 

"  Eubbish !  We  may  be  able  to  hold  out  here,  and  per- 
haps will  not  be  attacked  at  all  when  they  find  out  we're 
ready  for  them.  But  it's  perfectly  impossible  for  you  to 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  47 

get  back  along  the  beach  to  Malla-Nulla.  Come  up  into 
the  house,  and  we'll  find  you  a  bite  of  something  to  eat, 
and  Laura  shall  mix  you  a  whiskey  and  soda.  We've  a 
bit  of  the  last  steamer's  ice  still  left,  and  you  shall  have  it." 

"  Thanks.  I'll  come  up  and  see  Miss  Slade,  but  I  shall 
start  back  for  Malla-Nulla  in  half  an  hour  from  now. 
And  if,  as  you  prophesy,  I  don't  land,  well,  at  any  rate,  I 
shall  have  done  my  best  to  get  there." 

"It's  very  nice  of  you,  and  all  that,  but  do  you  think 
old  Smith  is  worth  it?" 

Carter  laughed.  "  Mr.  Smith's  a  rough  handful,  but  he's 
a  good  sort,  and  I  like  him.  Besides  he  happens  to  be  a 
gentleman." 

"  Or  was  one  once.  A  lot  of  us  on  the  Coast  were  gen- 
tlemen originally.  I  come  of  good  people  myself,  and  was 
at  Eaton  and  Jesus,  although  I  don't  suppose  you'd  have 
guessed  it  if  I  hadn't  told  you.  But  you  see  Nature  built 
me'  with  a  cutaway  chin,  and  I  couldn't  hold  down  a  job 
at  home.  However,  come  in,  and  we'll  scratch  you  up 
some  chop.  Here,  Laura,  I've  brought  a  caller." 

"  I  feel  this  dreadful  trouble  is  all  my  fault,"  said  the 
girl  as  they  came  into  the  lamplit  room.  "  If  you  had 
been  killed,  Mr.  Carter,  I  should  have  looked  upon  myself 
as  a  murderess." 

"My  dear  Miss  Slade,  you  really  mustn't  worry  about 
a  matter  you've  no  concern  in  whatever.  The  whole  thing's 
a  'regrettable  incident' — I  believe  that's  the  proper  term 
— that  Mr.  Smith  told  me  has  been  brewing  for  years.  It's 
all  due  to  the  drop  in  the  price  of  palm  oil  on  the  Liver- 
pool market,  which  means  that  we  white  traders  pay  less 
for  it  on  the  Coast  here,  and  the  black  traders  get  less, 
and  so  there's  less  for  the  King  of  Okky  to  squeeze  out  of 
them  as  they  march  through  his  territory  from  the  hinter- 
land. That's  what's  put  his  fat  back  up.  The  only  great 


48  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

mistake  that's  been  made  is  that  I  didn't  split  the  old 
brute's  iniquitous  skull  when  I  had  the  chance.  I  say,  do 
you  mind  my  commenting  on  those  flowers  you've  got  on 
the  table?  I  haven't  seen  a  cut  flower  since  I  left  Eng- 
land." 

He  turned  to  his  host.  "  You  do  the  thing  rather  pala- 
tially  here,  Mr.  Slade.  Board  walls  and  real  glass  in  the 
windows !  We've  bamboo  walls  at  Malla-Nulla  that  let  in 
the  dust  and  the  mosquitoes  and  the  Krooboys'  stares  just  as 
they  occur.  It  felt  rather  like  living  in  a  bird-cage  till 
one  got  used  to  it." 

"  The  walls  are  Laura's  doing.  You  know  she  was  at 
school  in  a  convent  in  Las  Palmas,  and  came  home  with  all 
sorts  of  extravagant  notions.  Why,  she  actually  insisted 
on  a  tablecloth  for  meals,  and  napkins.  I'll  trouble  you, 
napkins !  And  yet  they  still  call  us  palm  oil  ruffians  in 
Liverpool,  and  firmly  believe  that  we  live  on  orange-colored 
palm  oil  chop,  which  we  pick  out  of  calabashes  with  our 
fingers.  I  sent  K.  O'Neill  a  photograph  of  this  room  by 
the  last  mail,  with  the  table  laid  for  chop,  and  flowers  as 
you  see  in  a  china  bowl,  in  the  hope  he'd  be  impressed  by 
it,  and  raise  my  screw." 

"He's  quite  likely  to  do  it,  too,"  said  Carter,  "if  I 
understand  Mr.  K.  right.  He's  always  insisting  in  his  let- 
ters to  Malla-Nulla  that  if  we  make  ourselves  comfortable, 
and  adapt  ourselves  to  the  climate,  we  shall  be  able  to  do 
more  and  better  work.  By  the  way,  do  you  know  Mr.  K. 
O'Neill  at  all?  At  Malla-Nulla  we  only  know  him  on 
paper." 

"  I'm  in  the  same  box,"  Slade  confessed.  "  Godfrey,  his 
predecessor,  of  course  I  knew  well  enough.  But  this  new 
chap  I  only  know  from  his  letters,  and  they're  a  deal  too 
rousing  for  my  easy-going  tastes.  Ah,  here's  the  boy  with 
a  tray  of  chop  for  you.  Observe  the  parsley ;  that's  Laura's 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  49 

latest  triumph  in  Coast  gardening.  Boy,  Mr.  Carter  will 
sleep  in  the  spare  bed  in  my  room.  See  that  there  are  no 
live  things  inside  the  mosquito  bar/' 

"  I  thank  you/'  said  Carter  firmly,  "  but  I  am  going  to 
do  as  I  said." 

"  He  wants  to  go  back  to  Malla-Nulla,"  Slade  explained 
to  his  daughter,  "  and  I  tell  him  it  is  suicide  to  think  of 
such  a  thing.  Here,  you  have  a  go  at  him,  Laura."  Slade 
always  put  off  onto  someone  else  anything  which  he  found 
hard  to  do  himself. 

But  Laura  Slade  read  a  certain  doggedness  in  Carter's 
face  that  told  her  what  to  say.  She  did  not  join  in  im- 
ploring him  to  stay  at  Smooth  River  when  he  had  so  ob- 
viously determined  to  go.  But  instead,  her  mind  flew  to 
some  scheme  that  might  make  his  passage  less  desperately 
risky.  "  I  am  sure  father  could  spare  you  some  men. 
With  an  escort  you  might  get  through.  I  wish  you  were 
not  so  plucky." 

Carter  laughed.  "  Oh,  I  am  frightened  hard  enough, 
but  I  should  be  still  more  frightened  at  what  I  should 
think  of  myself  if  anything  happened  to  Mr.  Smith  which 
I  could  have  prevented  if  I'd  been  there.  It's  very  kind 
of  you  to  offer  an  escort,  and  I'd  thought  of  that  before; 
but  I'm  sure  I  shall  be  able  to  move  quicker  and  more 
quietly  without  one.  But  if  Mr.  Slade  could  lend  me  a 
gun,  I'd  feel  a  lot  more  comfortable  with  that." 

"  Certainly,  my  boy,  certainly.  You  shall  have  my  Win- 
chester, and  I  believe  I  can  scare  up  a  revolver  somewhere." 

"  You  are  very  good.  I  have  a  revolver  already,  but  it's 
only  useful  to  me  as  a  sort  of  knuckleduster.  I  couldn't 
hit  a  haystack  with  it  ten  yards  off.  Same  with  the  rifle ; 
I've  never  used  one.  But  where  I  was  brought  up  in 
Wharfedale,  you  see,  the  Governor  had  some  glebe,  and  his 
income  was  small.  We  mostly  lived  on  rabbits  and  a  few 


50  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

grouse  in  the  season,  and  so  you  see  I  learned  to  be  pretty 
useful  with  a  shot  gun." 

Slade  handed  a  weapon.  "  There  you  are.  That's  a 
double  12-bore  hammer  gun,  and  both  barrels  are  cylinders. 
It's  an  early  Holland  and  was  a  swell  tool  in  its  day,  which 
was  some  time  ago." 

"  Thank  you  very  much.  I  hope  I  shan't  have  to  use  it, 
but  it'll  feel  comfortable  under  my  arm.  When  you've  lived 
most  of  your  life  in  the  country,  you  miss  going  out  with 
a  gun.  Well,  now,  I'll  say  good-by." 

"  Wait  a  minute  till  we've  called  up  your  boy.  I'll  shout 
from  the  veranda." 

"  Don't,  please,"  said  Carter,  remembering  that  on  all 
previous  occasions  when  trouble  foreboded  White-Man's- 
Trouble  disappeared.  He  did  not  wish  to  call  Laura's  at- 
tention more  than  necessary  to  the  risks  of  the  journey. 
"  I'd  far  rather  go  alone." 

"  Oh,  Carter,"  said  the  voice  of  the  Krooboy  from  the 
darkness  outside,  "  then  you  plenty-much  dam  fool.  I  say 
I  lib  for  come  with  you  to  Malla-Nulla.  You  no  fit  to  go 
by  your  lone." 

They  looked  out  through  the  lit  doorway  and  saw  the 
yellows  of  White-Man's-Trouble's  eyes,  and  the  gleam  of 
his  teeth,  which  latter  were  eclipsed  when  he  finished  his 
speech,  leaving  the  eyes  alone  to  tell  of  his  whereabouts. 

"Now,  that's  a  real  stout  boy  of  yours,  Carter,"  the 
trader  said.  "  Hi  you,  come  in.  You  fit  for  a  peg  ?  " 

"I  fit  for  a  bottle,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble,  who 
looked  nipped  and  gray  when  he  stood  up  in  the  lamp- 
light. Poor  fellow,  he  thought  he  was  going  to  certain 
death  with  perhaps  torture  as  an  addition,  but  when  it 
came  to  a  pinch,  and  the  white  man  led,  he  screwed  up 
his  pluck  to  follow. 

So  at  last  the  pair  of  them  set  off  quietly  into  the 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  51 

shadows.  Two  handshakes  were  all  the  farewell,  but  there 
was  a  soft  something  in  Laura's  eyes  that  sent  queer  thrills 
down  George  Carter's  spine.  Slade  himself  saw  them 
through  the  outer  line  of  the  sentries,  and  warned  those 
enthusiasts  not  to  fire  on  them  should  they  presently  re- 
turn; and  a  dozen  yards  away  from  those  sentries,  they 
melted  into  the  warm  blackness  of  the  African  night. 

Up  on  the  veranda  of  the  factory  Laura  Slade  leaned 
over  the  rail  and  listened  to  the  beating  of  her  own  heart. 
She  strained  her  eyes  and  she  strained  her  ears  along  the 
line  of  mysterious  phosphorescence  which  marked  the 
beach,  but  no  trace  or  hint  did  she  get  of  how  it  fared 
with  the  man  she  loved.  Once  only  during  that  watch  did 
she  hear  a  sound  which  she  took  to  be  a  distant  gunshot, 
and  then,  din,  din,  as  though  two  other  shots  followed  it. 
Then  the  roar  of  the  surf  and  the  night  noises  of  Africa 
closed  in  again,  and  for  safety  or  hurt  Carter  had  passed 
beyond  her  reach. 

"  Kate  will  like  that  man,"  she  said  to  herself,  and  then 
she  shivered  a  little.  "  I  wonder  if  Kate  will  take  him 
away  from  me  ?  " 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    BEACH    BY    MOONLIGHT 

WHITE-MAN'S-TROUBLE  was  abominably  frightened  dur- 
ing that  night  march  along  the  beach  to  Malla-Nulla,  and 
did  not  mind  showing  it.  Indeed,  the  fact  that  he  screwed 
up  his  determination  sufficiently  to  make  the  trip  at  all, 
says  a  great  deal  for  his  admiration  of  Carter. 

Carter,  on  the  other  hand,  though  he  was  fully  alive  to 
the  desperate  risks  that  lay  ahead,  felt  himself  to  be  the 
white  man  in  command,  and  adjusted  his  demeanor  ac- 
cordingly. To  look  at  him  one  might  have  thought  that 
he  was  merely  taking  exercise  and  the  evening  air  for  the 
general  good  of  his  health. 

Had  there  been  cover  he  would  have  taken  it,  but  there 
was  none.  The  beach  was  the  only  path;  the  bush  which 
walled  it  on  one  side  was  impassable,  and  though  the  sea 
might  have  been  considered  an  alternative  route,  they  had 
only  cotton-wood  dug-outs  at  the  Smooth  River  factory, 
and  it  would  have  taken  at  least  a  surf-boat  to  get  out 
over  the  Smooth  River  bar,  to  say  nothing  of  landing,  when 
the  time  came,  through  the  rollers  which  crashed  always 
on  Malla-Nulla  beach.  So  he  marched  along  where  the 
sand  was  wet  and  hard,  just  above  the  cream  of  surf,  and 
he  carried  the  twelve-bore,  hammers  downwards,  over  his 
shoulder,  with  his  forefinger  on  the  trigger  guard  above. 
He  was  very  grateful  for  those  past  days  of  rabbit  shooting 
in  Upper  Wharfedale  which  had  taught  him  to  be  so  quick 
and  deadly  on  a  sudden  mark. 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER  53 

The  surf  on  one  side,  and  the  night  noises  of  Africa  on 
the  other,  roared  in  their  ears  as  they  marched,  and  every 
•now  and  again  they  came  into  a  cloud  of  fireflies,  which 
switched  their  tiny  lamps  in  and  out  with  inconceivable 
rapidity,  and  left  them  quite  blinded  during  the  intervals 
of  darkness. 

So  that  on  the  whole,  as  Carter  realized  very  fully,  if 
the  King  of  Okky  had  set  men  to  waylay  them,  these 
could  scarcely  be  incompetent  enough  to  miss  their  mark. 
But  he  did  not  admit  this  knowledge  to  White-Man's- 
Trouble.  When  that  Krooboy  stated  things  exactly  as  they 
were,  Carter  pooh-poohed  his  deductions  lightly  enough, 
and  stormed  at  the  man  because  he  was  ignorant  of  the 
most  approved  method  of  pipe-claying  shoes. 

An  African  moon  floated  cleanly  overhead,  and  great 
African  stars  punctured  the  purple  roof  of  heaven,  and  to 
Carter's  chilled  fancy  he  and  the  Krooboy  were  as  con- 
spicuous as  two  actors  strutting  under  lime  light.  But 
there  were  two  things  he  overlooked,  and  these  I  believe 
must  have  been  the  salvation  of  the  pair  of  them.  The 
thick  night  mists  were  steaming  out  of  the  forest,  and 
from  the  surf  the  thick  white  sea  smoke  drove  in  on  the 
land  breeze  to  meet  them.  This  translucent  fog,  though  it 
might  not  be  very  apparent  to  the  eyes  of  the  walkers 
themselves,  would  be  quite  enough  to  screen  them  from 
the  gaze  of  hostile  pickets  who,  after  the  manner  of  Afri- 
cans, were  already  half  scared  out  of  their  dusky  skins  by 
the  fear  of  ghosts. 

They  had  made  the  journey  out  to  Smooth  Eiver  in  five 
and  a  quarter  hours;  they  completed  the  journey  back  to 
Malla-Nulla  in  four,  which  meant  good  travelling;  and 
because  a  heavy  march  like  this  may  not  be  undertaken, 
without  physical  payment  in  the  stewy  climate  of  the  Coast, 
Carter  felt  certain  premonitory  symptoms  which  told  him 


54  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

that  a  good  thumping  dose  of  fever  would  be  his  when 
once  he  slackened  his  efforts  and  gave  it  a  chance  to  take 
charge.  But  he  was  not  much  alarmed  at  the  circumstance. 
As  he  told  himself  coolly  enough,  either  by  the  time  the 
fever  came  on  he  would  have  rejoined  Mr.  Smith  at  Malla- 
Nulla,  who  in  that  case  was  perfectly  capable  of  looking 
after  him,  or  he  would  have  rejoined  Mr.  Smith  in  the 
Shades  Beyond,  and  a  fever  owing  to  his  body  left  behind 
on  earth  would  not  matter.  As  it  happened  neither  of  these 
alternatives  had  to  be  bargained  with. 

Malla-lSTulla  factory  was  eaves  deep  in  white  wet  mist 
when  they  got  to  it,  and  found  it  earthy-smelling  and 
empty.  It  was  unmarked  by  fire,  unsmirched  by  signs  of 
battle,  and,  strangest  of  all,  unlooted. 

The  pair  of  them  charged  up  the  veranda  steps,  Carter 
in  the  lead,  with  the  twelve-bore  held  ready  for  an  instant 
discharge.  The  Krooboy  with  matchet  uplifted  and  teeth 
at  the  snarl  looked  the  very  picture  of  savage  desperation 
and  ferocity.  They  stepped  into  the  empty  mess-room  and 
lit  matches  and  a  lamp.  The  land  breeze  sang  through  the 
bamboo  walls,  and  Carter's  home-made  punkah  swished 
overhead  to  the  unseen  impulse  of  the  water  wheel ;  but  of 
quick  human  life,  there  was  not  a  trace. 

He  had  fitted  up  bells  about  the  place,  or  rather  strings 
that  actuated  wooden  clappers  which  could  beat  on  wooden 
drums.  He  set  these  all  a-clang  and  listened.  The  place 
reeked  of  its  usual  mildew,  and  the  smell  nauseated  him. 
They  had  got  rid  of  the  mildew  scent  at  the  Smooth  River 
factory.  But  there  was  not  a  murmur  of  reply  to  his 
clamor. 

White-ManVTrouble  delivered  himself  of  wisdom. 
"  Oh,  Carter,  I  think  dem  Smith,  an'  all  dem  boys  at- 
factory  lib  for  die.  Dis  place  lib  for  full  of  ghosts.  I  fit 
for  run  back  for  Smooth  River." 


KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  55 

"Run  away,  then,"  said  Carter,  who  was  beginning  to 
examine  the  mess-room  systematically. 

The  Krooboy  cowered  in  a  chair  and  covered  his  eyes. 
"  Oh,  Carter,  I  no  fit  for  march  back  alone.  Dem  ghosts 
plenty-too-much  fond  o'  Kroo  chop.  Oh,  Carter,  you  no 
be  dam  fool  an'  stay  here.  You  lib  back  for  Smooth  River 
all-e-same  me/' 

"  My  pagan  friend,  don't  get  too  familiar.  The  next 
time  I  hear  you  calling  me  names,  I  shall  break  my  knuckles 
up  against  one  of  the  places  where  the  worsted's  been  shaved 
off  your  skull.  Observe" — said  Carter,  and  poured  some 
whiskey  onto  the  table  top  and  set  light  to  it — "  Observe 
those  blue  flames  that  crawl  and  nicker  about,  but  do  not 
burn  the  wood.  In  those  the  ghosts  that  have  been  threat- 
ening you  are  now  being  most  painfully  consumed.  Do 
you  believe  it  ?  " 

"  I  fit  for  see  'em  die,"  said  V/hite-Man's-Trouble  de- 
voutly. "  Oh,  Carter,  you  plenty-much-fine  witch  doctor. 
I  fit  for  pipe-clay  dem  shoes,  three  pair  a  day.  Oh,  Carter, 
if  Okky  men  lib  for  come,  you  burn  them,  too  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Carter,  "  anything  to  soothe  your 
nerves.  Though,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  should  demonstrate 
to  them  with  a  shotgun,  not  by  burning  methylated.  Now, 
just  nose  around,  boy,  and  help  me  to  find  out  where  Mr. 
Smith's  evaporated  to.  They  can't  have  eaten  him,  or 
some  of  them  must  have  stayed  behind  to  digest  the  meal ; 
and  they  can't  have  kidnapped  him,  or  he'd  have  broken 
up  the  happy  home  before  he  condescended  to  go,  and  as 
we  see  it  now,  it's  no  more  squalid  than  usual.  So  now, 
Trouble,  produce  Mr.  Smith." 

"  Smith  ?    Oh,  Carter,  dem  Smith  lib  for  surf  boat." 

"  How  on  earth  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  Dem  surf  boat  no  lib  for  beach.  Dem  paddles  no  lib 
for  veranda,  Okky  man  no  fit  for  boat  boy.  So  Malla- 


56  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

Nulla  Krooboy,  dey  boat  boy  for  dem  Smith  in  Malla-Nulla 
surf  boat.  Savvy  ?  " 

"  I  do  clearly.  But  why  the  deuce  didn't  you  tell  me 
all  this  before?" 

"  Because,"  said  the  Krooboy  simply,  "  I  too  plenty-much 
frightened  o'  dem  ghosts  before  you  burn  'em." 

"  I  wonder,"  said  Carter  thoughtfully,  "  if  I  shall  ever 
understand  all  the  workings  of  the  African  mind."  He 
went  onto  the  veranda  and  peered  out  into  the  mists.  A 
fleecy  blanket  covered  the  sea  and  blotted  out  the  water, 
and  all  things  of  low  elevation  that  floated  thereon.  In 
the  distance,  between  him  and  the  moon,  the  two  black 
mastheads  of  an  invisible  steamer  ploughed  through  the 
whiteness,  but  between  him  and  it  a  whole  fleet  of  canoes 
and  surf  boats  might  have  been  snugly  tucked  away  from 
his  sight. 

Then  a  sudden  pang  of  coldness  came  upon  him,  which 
made  him  button  up  his  white  drill  coat,  and  step  back  into 
the  mess-room  and  huddle  into  a  chair. 

"  Fever  lib,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble  looking  at  him 
critically. 

"  I'm  in  for  my  usual  two  days'  touch,"  said  Carter,  with 
the  listlessness  of  the  malaria  already  creeping  over  him. 

"  You  fit  for  quinine-palaver  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

The  Krooboy  fetched  the  quinine  bottle  from  Mr.  Smith's 
well-filled  medicine  shelf. 

"  I'd  some  pills  of  my  own  somewhere." 

"  Steamah  pills.  Dem  Gappy  Image  pills  no  dam  good. 
I  eat  dem  box  myself." 

"  You  thieving  scoundrel !  " 

"  Oh,  Carter,  I  tell  you  dem  pills  no  good."  He  laid  a 
hand  on  his  midriff.  "No  fit  for  give  you  even  small- 
small  twist  there.  Oh,  Carter,  I  save  you  lose  your  temper 
over  dem  pills  when  I  eat  'em  mine  self." 


KATE    MEBEDITH,    FINANCIER  57 

"  I  wish  they'd  been  calomel.  You'll  get  poisoned  one 
of  these  days,  Trouble,  if  you  don't  stop  stealing.  I've  some 
corrosive  sublimate  tabloids  for  skin  preserving  stowed 
away  somewhere,  and  if  you  bolt  one  of  those,  you  lib  for 
die  one-time.  Here,  give  me  a  dose  of  quinine." 

The  Krooboy  found  a  cigarette  paper,  tapped  it  full  of 
the  feathery  white  powder,  and  rolled  it  up.  Carter  put  it 
on  his  tongue  and  swilled  it  down  with  whiskey  and  water. 
"  Quick,  now,  get  me  some  blankets,"  he  chattered.  "  I 
shall  burst  if  I  don't  sweat  directly." 

White-Man's-Trouble  packed  him  with  rugs  and  coats, 
till  in  the  baking  atmosphere  of  the  mess-room  one  won- 
dered that  any  skin  could  resist  the  invitation. 

But  presently  the  wraps  were  flung  aside,  and  Carter 
sat  aching  and  burning  in  his  clammy  drill  clothes,  with 
his  skin  bone-dry,  and  a  feel  in  his  head  as  though  it  were 
moving  in  and  out  like  a  concertina. 

"  That  last's  the  quinine,"  he  told  himself ;  and  then,  "  I 
say,  Trouble,  you'd  better  think  for  your  own  neck  now. 
I  shall  be  otherwise  occupied  for  the  next  thirty  hours. 
You'll  be  well  advised  if  you  went  away  back  to  Smooth 
River.  If  the  Okky  men  come  here  and  knock  me  on  the 
head,  I  really  don't  care.  And  if  they'll  only  chop  niy 
unwholesome  carcass,  and  get  indigestion  from  it  after- 
wards, I  feel  I  shall  get  a  grim  enjoyment  from  watching 
their  writhings  from  my  own  comfortable  (or  maybe  un- 
comfortable) seat  on  the  Other  Side." 

"You  lib  for  bad  fever,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble 
thoughtfully. 

Carter  clutched  at  the  Krooboy's  brawny  hand  and  wrung 
it  enthusiastically.  "  Hullo,  Pater !  Fancy  seeing  you  out 
here  in  this  filthy  hole !  Well,  sir,  it  is  real  good  of  you  to 
leave  Wharfedale  and  come  all  this  way  to  look  me  up. 
How's  the  Mater  ?  All  right,  eh  ?  And  did  she  do  you  in 


58  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER 

the  eye  this  year  over  the  roses,  or  did  you  manage  to 
snip  off  the  buds  ahead  of  her?  You  didn't  happen  to 
bring  any  beer  with  you,  did  you,  sir  ?  Nice  cool  draught 
of  Pateley  ale,  in  your  big  silver  tankard  that  you  won  for 
stewing  Hindoo  babies  alive  at  the  burning  ghats  ?  We've 
got  muggers  here,  too.  .  .  .  Lord,  what  rot  I'm 
talking,  and  you  aren't  the  Pater  at  all,  but  only  a  dashed 
good  sort  of  an  ugly  nigger  with  a  blue  frying  pan  tat- 
tooed across  the  bridge  of  your  nose.  White-Man's-Trouble, 
tell  me  solemnly  and  truly.  Why  do  noses  have  bridges? 
Why,  for  instance,  not  ferries?  Wake  up,  you  image,  and 
give  me  a  civil  answer." 

"  You  lib  for  dam  bad  fever,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble 
still  more  thoughtfully,  "  an'  if  you  lib  for  die,  Okky  men 
catch  me  one-time.  So  I  fit  for  make  you  well  one-time. 
Oh,  Carter,  you  hear,  I  plenty-much  fine  doctor." 

"  You  a  doctor !  With  peacock's  feathers  growing  out 
behind  your  ears  instead  of  whiskers ! " 

"  I  savvy  nothing  white-man's  drug-palaver.  But  I  savvy 
plenty  cure  fever  Krooboy  fashion." 

"  Do  you?  Which  of  you?  What  rot  I'm  talking!  But 
upon  my  Sam,  the  Pater's  gone,  and  there  are  three  dis- 
tinct White-Man's-Troubles  standing  there  all  in  a  row. 
I'll  just  talk  to  the  middle  one,  and  you  others  shut  up. 
Now,  then,  sir,  you  say  you  savvy  Krooboy  doctor-palaver  ?  " 

"  Savvy  plenty." 

"Then,  doc,  I  offer  myself  as  a  patient.  Never  mind 
sending  in  to  Grasington  for  your  amputating  tools.  Ee- 
member  you  are  a  Dales  doctor,  and  as  you've  pointed  out 
with  offensive  cheerfulness  many  times,  you  saw  me  into 
this  hot  and  wicked  world,  and  I  know  you  jolly  well  hope 
to  see  me  out.  You  catch  the  patient  and  we  do  the  rest, 
as  the  undertakers  say  when  they  send  round  their  cards 
about  top  hats  and  gun  cases.  Special  quotations  for  fever 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  59 

patients  F.  0.  B.,  for  then  a  couple  of  firebars  out  of  the 
engine  room  does  the  trick,  and  saves  the  cost  of  an  elab- 
orate coffin." 

"  Oh,  Carter,  listen  to  me." 

"Well?" 

"  I  lib  for  Krooboy  quarters  for  fetich  ju-ju.  You  sit 
here.  No  run  away.  Savvy  ?  " 

"  Be  long  gone  ?  " 

"  I  come  back  one-time/' 

"  All  right.  Give  my  compliments  to  Miss  Slade,  and 
say  we  had  a  jolly  walk  in  the  moonlight  and  found  every- 
thing all  right  when  we  got  here,  except  that  Mr.  Swizzle- 
Stick — whose  other  name  I  forget — had  eloped  with  the 
assistant  typewriter.  Say,  it  was  rather  a  nuisance  about 
the  typewriter  woman,  because  she  was  the  one  who  made 
the  jellies,  jolly  cool  yellow  jellies  with  just  a  drop  of 
sherry  in  them  that  were  perfectly  ripping  when  you  had 
been  sick.  My  mother  used  to  make  jellies  like  that  herself 
for  us  kids  when  we  were  sick " 

He  was  still  rambling  on  when  the  Krooboy  returned, 
and  by  that  time  the  fever  was  burning  dangerously  high. 
It  was  not  running  its  normal  course.  He  had  undergone 
abnormal  exertion,  and  the  resulting  fever  was  correspond- 
ingly fierce. 

White-Man's-Trouble  came  in  out  of  the  warm  moist 
night  outside,  with  some  liquid  in  a  cracked  teacup.  The 
patient  refused  to  know  him,  and  so  the  Krooboy  picked 
him  up  in  his  enormous  arms  and  got  the  liquid  down  his 
throat  by  drenching  him  as  a  nurse  might  drench  a  frac- 
tious child. 

Carter  coughed  and  spat,  but  the  dose  was  down,  and 
in  three  minutes  it  had  started  its  work.  In  five  minutes 
it  had  laid  him  out,  and  then  White-Man's-Trouble  car- 
ried him  into  the  next  room  and  laid  him  on  a  bed.  Then, 


60  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

from  a  bag  he  produced  materials  and  did  with  them  what 
will  not  be  set  down  here.  .  .  .  And  after  that  he 
groped  around  inside  the  mosquito  bar,  killed  what  insects 
were  lodged  there,  pulled  down  the  netting,  and  tucked  it 
accurately  round  the  mattress. 

Then  he  took  up  his  matchet  again,  spat  in  his  great 
right  hand  to  get  a  good  grip  on  the  hilt,  lay  down  on  the 
mat  before  the  door  and  went  to  sleep. 

The  room  pinged  with  mosquitoes ;  a  leopard  roared  per- 
sistently from  the  bush  at  the  back  of  the  factory,  and  a  rat 
somewhere  up  in  the  rafters  gnawed  at  a  sounding  piece 
of  board  with  irritating  persistence.  Moreover,  of  course 
there  was  the  probability  of  the  Okky  men  coming  to  the 
factory  at  any  moment  for  that  much  talked-of  massacre. 
But  none  of  these  things  disturbed  White-Man's-Trouble. 
He  suddenly  wished  for  sleep,  and  therefore  to  sleep  he 
promptly  resigned  himself.  All  thoughts  of  anything  be- 
yond that  immediate  desire  were  blotted  out  from  his  sim- 
ple brain.  The  patient  might  awake,  and  rave,  or  want 
assistance;  but  that  did  not  matter.  Nothing  mattered 
beyond  his  wish  there  and  then  for  sleep. 

The  beautiful  unreliability  of  his  tribe  was  strongly 
present  in  White-Man's-Trouble. 


CHAPTEK  V 

EVENTS    AT    MALLA-NULLA 

MR.  SMITH  had  been  away  from  his  creature  comforts 
for  a  spell  of  twenty  hours,  and  most  of  that  time  had 
been  spent  on  the  thwart  of  a  dancing  surf  boat  in  the  em- 
braces of  a  dank  sea  fog.  He  had  been  divorced  from  food, 
stimulant  and  tobacco  smoke  for  all  that  time — the  surf 
boat  had  been  twice  upset  in  getting  off,  and  drowned  all 
the  matches — and  as  a  consequence  his  temper  was  vile, 
and  his  language  was  sulphurous.  He  was  barely  thankful 
when  he  came  back  to  the  beach'  again  and  found  Malla- 
Nulla  factory  neither  burned  nor  looted;  he  was  openly 
ungrateful  when  he  found  that  the  last  of  the  stock  of 
limes  had  gone  mouldy,  and  realized  for  the  moment  a 
Coast  cocktail  was  beyond  the  limitations  of  art.  As  a  con- 
sequence Mr.  Smith  romped  up  and  down  the  untidy  mess- 
room  in  a  state  bordering  on  frenzy,  and  in  his  own  especial 
polyglot  reviled  the  unknown  K.  O'Neill  as  the  fons  et  origo 
mali. 

In  addition  to  the  legitimate  boat  boys,  the  whole  of  the 
other  factory  boys  had  been  crammed  into  the  surf  boat, 
and  as  a  consequence  they  also  were  chilled,  cramped,  and 
bad-tempered.  His  own  body  servant  was  openly  insolent 
when*commanded  to  produce  dry  tobacco  and  a  pipe.  And 
when  on  the  top  of  all  this  Mr.  Smith  opened  Carter's  bed- 
room door,  stumbled  over  the  sleepy  White-Man's-Trouble, 
and  was  promptly  floored  by  that  nervous  savage  and  threat- 
ened with  a  well-filed  matchet,  the  remaining  rags  of  his 


62  KATE   MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEE 

temper  at  last  gave  way.  He  sat  there  on  the  floor,  a  very, 
unkempt  figure,  and  for  five  minutes  without  stopping  (or 
repeating  himself)  said  exactly  what  he  thought. 

During  four  of  these  minutes  his  Assistant  had  been 
awake,  and  listening  to  him  through  the  thin  filter  of  the 
mosquito  bar. 

"  Perhaps  I  should  explain,  sir,"  said  Carter,  stiffly, 
when  the  flow  of  words  at  last  ended,  "  that  I  came  back 
here  because  I  thought  you  were  in  a  hole  and  I  might  be 
of  use.  I  have  not  been  indulging  in  whiskey  as  you  sug- 
gest, but  I  believe  I  have  been  through  a  stiffish  bout  of 
fever." 

"  Get  up,  man,  and  look  at  yourself  in  the  glass." 

Carter  did  that,  inspected  a  moment,  and  then  whistled. 
"  Good  Lord,"  he  said,  "  I  don't  wonder  you  think  I  had 
been  on  the  razzle.  What  on  earth's  this  white  stuff  painted 
round  my  eyesockets?  I  look  like  a  clown  in  a  circus." 

"Oh,  Carter,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble,  "dem  ju-ju. 
Last  night  you  lib  for  fever  plenty-too-much  bad.  I  fit 
for  cure  you.  Now  you  well.  If  you  touch  dem  ju-ju,  you 
lib  for  fever  again,  one-time." 

Carter's  meddling  hand  dropped  to  his  side  as  though 
the  white  stuff  round  his  eye  had  stung  him.  He  turned 
half-apologetically  to  Mr.  Smith.  "Do  you  think  that's 
likely,  sir?  You  know  West  African  ways  better  than  I 
do." 

"Beyond  me.  But  you  never  can  tell,  and  there's  al- 
ways the  probability  of  Africa  springing  something  new 
upon  one.  If  I  were  you  I  should  let  your  personal  ap- 
pearance slide  and  risk  wearing  that  decoration  for  the 
day,  if  your  boy  says  so.  Ju-ju's  a  dangerous  thing  to 
meddle  with  anyway,  and  he  calls  it  that.  Besides  your 
fever's  gone,  you  say  ?  " 

"  Absolutely.    And  I  don't  even  feel  a  wreck." 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  63 

"  You're  sure  you  were  pretty  bad  last  night  ?  " 

"  I  fancy  I  was  close  upon  pegging  out.  I  never  had 
such  a  stiff  bout  before." 

"Well,  Mr.  Carter,"  said  the  old  man  screwing  in  an 
eyeglass  and  staring  at  him,  "  if  I  were  you  I  should  dash 
Trouble  five  bob  for  saving  your  life,  and  follow  out  the 
rest  of  his  instructions.  Ju-ju  often  gets  there  when  drugs 
won't  touch  the  spot  at  all,  and,  mark  you,  you're  getting 
that  admission  from  the  man  who  knows  more  about  drugs 
suitable  for  Coast  ailments  than  anybody  in  West  Africa. 
The  only  trouble  about  putting  this  into  general  practice, 
is,  where  are  you  going  to  find  the  proper  ju-ju  to  meet  the 
case  ?  But  you  seem  to  have  got  hold  of  the  right  boy  for 
this  sort  of  thing  in  Trouble.  Turning  to  business  for  a 
moment,  I  hope  you're  satisfied  with  your  exertions  on 
behalf  of  Craven  and  O'Neill  with  his  Majesty  of  Okky  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  what  he's  done  yet,  sir.  Mr.  Slade 
said  he  had  wiped  out  Malla-Nulla  factory  and  killed  you 
and  all  the  boys,  but  that  seems,  well,  exaggerated." 

"  Slade  always  takes  the  gloomy  view.  The  King  talked ; 
and  I'll  admit  things  looked  ugly  for  a  bit.  You  see  you'd 
walked  off  with  the  Firm's  artillery." 

"  Good  heavens,  do  you  mean  that  my  tin-pot  ten-and- 
sixpenny  revolver  was  the  only  gun  about  the  place  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do.  You  see — er — Mr.  Carter,  one  occa- 
sionally— er — dines  rather  heavily  here,  and  once  after 
dining  too  well  I  saw  a  man  shoot  another  whose  loss  he 
regretted  afterwards.  So  as  I  wished  to  spare  myself  those 
regrets,  I  saw  to  it  that  there  was  nothing  more  deadly 
about  the  place  than  trade  guns,  and  you  wouldn't  catch 
me  loosing  off  one  of  those,  however  drunk  I  might  be. 
I  regret  to  say  the  King  didn't  continue  to  carry  his  liquor 
like  a  gentleman  after  you'd  left;  he  grew  quarrelsome; 
and  finally  I  had  to  pull  him  up  with  some  sharpness. 


64  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

Then  came  the  ultimatum.  He  said  I  should  find  the 
roads  stopped  already — the  old  scoundrel  had  been  playing 
me  like  a  trout,  it  seems,  till  everything  had  been  got 
ready,  and  he  told  me  that  as  a  fine  for  your  Use-majeste 
he  should  help  himself  to  the  contents  of  the  factory  as 
they  stood." 

"  But  you  headed  him  off  there,  sir,  at  any  rate." 
Swizzle-Stick  Smith  chuckled.  "Well,  I  haven't  been 
on  this  Coast  for  twenty-five  years  without  knowing  a  thing 
or  two.  I  told  the  King  I  was  rather  glad  to  hear  him 
say  that  because  it  showed  that  a  prophecy  made  a  year 
ago  was  now  going  to  be  fulfilled.  He  asked  what  it  was. 
I  spouted  to  him 

'  Maecenas  Atavis  edite  regibus 
0  et  praesidium  et  dulce  decus  meum, 
Sunt,  quos  curriculo  pulverem  Olympicum 
Conlegisse  juvat,     .     .     / 

as  the  first  thing  that  came  into  my  head,  and  fine  pompous 
lines  they  are,  as  you'd  remember  if  you'd  ever  been  to  a 
public  school,  which  you  haven't." 

"  I've  written  out  all  Horace  twenty  times  over  in  im- 
positions and  know  the  bulk  by  heart,  but  I  can't  say  I 
ever  got  a  taste  for  construing  it." 

"  Well,  we  won't  argue  out  the  value  of  a  classical  edu- 
cation just  now.  Anyway  the  King  of  Okky  was  impressed. 
Of  course  he  twigged  the  stuff  was  not  English,  or  Okky, 
or  Kroo,  or  Arabic,  or  any  of  the  tongues  hereabouts.  He 
asked  what  it  was.  I  said  it  was  a  priest's  tongue.  He 
asked  what  the  words  meant.  I  romanced  then  and  told 
him  they  prophesied  that  the  factory  would  be  looted  by 
a  King  who  had  made  himself  a  King — the  old  scoundrel 
was  born  a  slave,  you'll  remember,  and  made  the  throne 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  65 

vacant  by  killing  his  predecessor — and  that  two  days  after- 
wards a  new  and  very  curious  sort  of  ju-ju  would  be  put 
on  that  King,  who  would  thereupon  die  a  new  and  very 
painful  sort  of  death/' 

"  Eipping !  "  said  Carter. 

"  The  meeting  broke  up  in  confusion  just  about  then, 
because  his  soldiers  down  below  began  to  run  amuck 
among  our  boys,  and  the  King  heard  the  row  and  went 
for  me.  However,  I'd  my  big  lead  tobacco  box  handy,  and 
I  wiped  him  over  the  head  with  that,  and  as  the  boys  be- 
low were  frightened,  and  had  got  our  surf  boat  ready  for 
launching,  I  saw  that  they  intended  to  quit,  whatever  I 
might  say,  and  I  didn't  see  the  force  of  holding  the  fort 
here  alone.  So  I  went  to  sea  with  them,  and  spent  the 
evening  preaching  them  a  long  sermon  on  the  vice  of 
cowardice.  I  hadn't  much  faith  that  the  King  would  be 
fool  enough  to  swallow  my  prophecy,  but  as  I  say,  you 
can  never  be  sure  which  way  the  African  brain  will  twist 
And  here  you  see's  the  factory  untouched." 

"  When  Mr.  K.  gets  a  report  on  this,  sir,  I  fancy  you'll 
have  a  letter  you  will  like." 

"Maybe.  But  I  shan't  wear  myself  out  expecting  it. 
Look  here  " — Mr.  Smith  produced  a  letter  from  the  breast 
pocket  of  his  stained  pyjamas — "  came  in  just  after  you'd 
left.  Sent  by  canoe  and  special  runner  from  our  factory 
on  the  Monk  River.  Agent  there  says  he  wants  to  charge 
me  seven  pound  ten  for  forwarding  my  mail.  If  that's 
K.  O'Neill's  idea  of  running  a  business  economically,  I 
wish  he'd  come  out  to  the  Coast  here  and  find  a  way  of 
making  profits  to  correspond." 

Carter  had  a  shrewd  suspicion  that  if  Mr.  K.  had  or- 
dered an  expenditure  of  seven  pounds  ten  shilling  sterling 
over  the  forwarding  of  a  letter,  it  contained  an  idea  which 
that  very  astute  business  man  was  sure  would  produce  at 


66  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

least  seventy  pounds  in  the  near  future.  But  he  did  not 
irritate  his  superior  by  mentioning  this  aloucL  Instead 
he  asked,  "  Any  instructions  for  me,  sir  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes.  First  of  all  there  is  a  direct  one.  K.  says, 
'As  Mr.  Carter  seems  a  good  hand  at  collecting  native 
curios,  I  should  be  glad  if  he  would  get  me  some  ivory 
war  horns.  I  want  a  row  of  them  on  my  drawing-room 
wall/  So,  young  man,  you  had  better  get  hold  of  some 
escribellos  and  your  carving  tools  and  set  to  work." 

"  I  don't  propose,"  said  Carter  shortly,  "  to  start  faking 
curios  for  Mr.  K.  A  man  like  that  would  spot  them  at 
once.  But  I'll  send  my  model  horn,  and  see  to  it  he  has 
some  other  good  specimens  of  the  real  thing." 

"  As  you  like.  Well,  the  letter  goes  on  to  advise  us  that 
the  next  thing  America  and  France  and  Great  Britain 
are  going  to  gamble  over  is  rubber.  Not  collected  wild 
rubber,  you  understand,  but  rubber  estates  where  the  vines 
can  be  planted  and  cultivated.  K.'s  evidently  going  in  for 
Company  Promoting,  and  as  a  preliminary  he  instructs 
me  to  get  options  of  suitable  territory.  He's  got  an  idea 
that  an  uncleared  estate  on  the  Coast  here,  which  could 
grow  rubber  if  it  had  the  chance,  can  be  bought  at  the 
rate  of  a  case  of  gin  per  thousand  acres;  and  if  you've  a 
fancy  for  untouched  bush,  and  .a  doubtful  title,  I  daresay 
that  is  so." 

"But  one  can  get  a  clear  title,  I  suppose,  if  one  takes 
the  trouble?" 

Mr.  Smith's  pipe  finally  refused  even  to  bubble,  so  he 
started  to  clean  out  its  more  obvious  horrors  into  Carter's 
wash  basin.  He  went  on  between  the  throes  of  this  nice 
operation — "Depends  who  you  mean  by  'one.'  If  you're 
hinting  at  yourself,  I  have  no  doubt  you  could  manage  it, 
because — you're  a  very  painstaking  young  man,  and  I'm 
sure — you  see  yourself  as  a  partner  of  K.  O'Neill  already. 
Isn't  that  so?" 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  67 

"That  might  do  when  I'm  ready,  sir,"  said  Carter 
laughing,  "  unless  I  see  something  better  in  the  meantime. 
But  as  a  point  of  fact  I  wasn't  setting  up  myself  as  a 
man  to  see  through  the  tangle  of  African  land  transfer." 

"  If  you  were  referring  to  me,  I  shouldn't  recommend 
you  to  bet  on  the  result,  unless  the  odds  are  big  on  your 
side.  And  mark  you  I've  been  dabbling  in  West  African 
real  estate  at  intervals  for  five-and-twenty  years " — he 
pointed  to  the  crown  of  his  bald  head — "  that's  what's 
worn  my  hair  so  thin  in  places.  You  get  your  eye  on  a 
piece  of  land  here,  you  get  all  the  local  evidence  you  can 
rake  up  as  to  who  is  owner,  and  you  pay  that  man  and 
put  up  your  buildings.  If  within  the  next  six  months 
more  than  three  other  owners  don't  turn  up  with  absolutely 
flawless-looking  titles,  you'll  be  lucky.  It's  a  case  of  pay 
each  of  them  in  turn,  or  clear  out." 

"  But  surely  there's  the  alternative  of  doing  neither  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  if  you  can  get  the  Government  to  back  you 
up.  and  thafs  the  rarest  thing  imaginable.  You  see  any 
land  trouble  of  that  kind,  whatever  the  rights  or  wrongs 
of  it  may  be,  always  means  a  war  when  the  white  man 
refuses  either  to  pay  or  quit.  The  local  kings  and  ju-ju 
men  always  snap  at  the  chance.  Well,  we  needn't  argue 
this  out  any  further.  I  know  all  the  districts  in  at  the 
back  here  where  rubber  can  be  grown,  and  I  shall  go  off 
on  a  trip  up  country  and  see  what  I  can  do  in  the  way  of 
negotiations.  I  leave  you  in  charge  here  at  Malla-Nulla. 
Your  particular  object  in  life  will  have  to  be  keeping  down 
expenses." 

"  You  think  there  will  be  no  trade  then  ?  " 

"  Not  now  the  King  of  Okky  has  closed  the  roads,"  said 
Smith  decisively. 

Now  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  had  a  long  list  of  failings,  but 
letting  his  assistants  eat  the  bread  of  idleness  was  not 


68 

among  them.  "  Nothing  like  work — and  a  moderate 
amount  of  drugs — for  keeping  fever  and  mischief  out  of  a 
man/'  was  his  motto,  and  he  saw  to  it  that  Carter  re- 
mained steadily  on  the  run.  But  now  the  roads  were 
stopped,  and  it  was  only  the  rare  merchant  who  straggled 
in  scared,  and  often  wounded,  from  that  mysterious  Africa 
behind,  George  Carter  discovered  that  life  was  a  very  dif- 
ferent thing.  Beforetime,  he  had  found  work  in  the 
feteesh,  and  round  the  factory  generally,  a  trial  to  the 
flesh;  but  the  idleness  that  took  its  place  was  infinitely 
more  objectionable. 

He  employed  the  Krooboy  staff  in  whitewashing,  in 
building,  in  making  a  caricature  of  a  garden ;  he  made  the 
native  clerks  polish  up  their  books  into  a  shape  that  would 
have  satisfied  even  a  Glasgow  Chartered  Accountant;  and 
for  himself  he  made  Okky  arrows,  axes,  spears,  drums  and 
warhorns,  in  such  quantities  that  even  the  curiosity  shops 
of  Europe  would  have  been  glutted  if  they  had  all  gone 
home. 

In  despair  he  even  thawed  to  a  certain  intimacy  with 
the  Portuguese  linguister,  but  presently  cast  him  off  in 
disgust,  and  realized  why  on  the  West  Coast  one  divides 
up  the  population  into  white  men,  black  men,  and  Portu- 
guese. Of  course  White-Man's-Trouble  was  always  at  his 
elbow,  but  he  hardly  fulfilled  the  requirements  of  a  com- 
panion. 

To  be  precise,  after  the  roads  were  stopped,  and  Mr. 
Smith  had  departed  elsewhere,  the  Trader-in-charge  of 
Malla-Wulla  factory  discovered  for  himself  what  many 
millions  of  men  have  found  out  before,  that  it  is  not  good 
for  man  to  live  alone,  and  though  he  made  many  ingenious 
plans  for  remedying  the  evil,  all  of  these,  save  one,  in- 
variably broke  down  on  being  tested.  The  one  plan  that 
was  sound  related  to  Laura  Slade. 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  69 

Every  time  that  Laura's  name  inserted  itself  into  the 
argument  his  mind  would  presently  leap  back  to  Upper 
Wharfedale,  and  he  would  hear  afresh  that  warning  of 
his  father's  about  taking  a  wife  of  one's  own  color.  And 
his  father,  he  reminded  himself,  had  once  held  an  Indian 
chaplaincy,  and  knew  what  he  was  talking  about. 

But  by  degrees,  as  this  proposition  was  argued  out  again 
and  again,  and  the  loneliness  of  West  Africa  in  general, 
and  Malla-Nulla  in  particular  bit  deeper  and  deeper  home, 
so  did  England  and  all  that  dwelt  therein  drift  further  and 
further  away.  He  had  found  occasion  the  day  after  he 
had  been  left  in  sole  charge  of  the  factory  to  send  a  busi- 
ness note  to  Slade  at  Smooth  River.  In  it  he  enclosed 
another  to  Laura,  and  to  this  latter  he  received  a  reply  that 
he  found  charming.  The  affairs  of  the  factories  required 
many  messages  after  that;  and  presently  the  pair  of  them 
did  away  with  the  cloak  and  pretence  of  commerce  alto- 
gether, and  White-Man's-Trouble  was  kept  trotting  back- 
wards and  forwards  across  the  glaring  beaches,  frankly  as 
Cupid's  messenger.  Only  once  did  Slade  interfere,  and 
that  was  when  the  Krooboy,  presuming  on  his  peculiar 
position,  stole  from  the  Smooth  River  factory  some  article 
of  more  than  customary  value.  Slade  said  nothing  pub* 
licly,  but  took  the  law  into  his  own  hands,  and  after  the 
custom  of  the  Coast  banged  White-Man's-Trouble  lustily 
with  a  section  of  a  packing  case;  and  even  then  Carter 
would  have  known  nothing  about  the  matter  had  not  there 
been  a  nail  in  the  weapon  of  offence,  which  left  its  marks, 
and  about  which  he  made  inquiries. 

Slade  it  seemed  had  also  received  from  K.  O'Neill  sim- 
ilar instructions  to  those  recorded  above,  on  the  matter  of 
rubber  estates,  and  with  his  usual  indecision  would  deter- 
mine one  day  to  set  off  personally  into  the  bush,  and  the 
next  day  to  do  the  necessary  bargaining  by  correspondence. 


70  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

Finally  he  wrote  to  Carter  a  querulous  letter  saying  that 
as  he  got  no  help  from  anybody  in  deciding  on  such  an 
important  subject,  he  was  just  going  to  stay  on  at  Smooth 
River  and  twiddle  his  thumbs,  and  so  Carter  was  not  in 
the  least  surprised  to  hear  from  Laura  within  the  next 
twenty  hours  that  her  father  with  hammock-train  and  es- 
cort had  that  day  set  oil  for  a  prolonged  expedition  into 
the  bush. 

"  His  last  instructions,"  wrote  Laura,  "  were  that  I  was 
not  to  be  in  the  least  nervous;  he  was  going  to  avoid  the 
Okky  country;  and  anyway  he  was  an  old  Coaster,  and 
knew  most  thoroughly  how  to  take  care  of  himself.  And 
so,  nervous  I  refuse  to  feel.  But,  oh !  I  am  so  lonely  here 
with  no  one  whiter  than  Mr.  and  Mrs.  da  Silva  to  talk  to. 
I  somehow  quite  share  your  instinctive  dislike  to  West  Coast 
Portuguese/' 

Within  ten  minutes  after  reading  that  letter,  Carter  was 
out  under  a  braztn  glare  of  heat,  marching  along  the  sand 
where  it  was  wet  and  hard,  and  nearing  the  straggle  of 
palms  which  marked  the  banks  of  Smooth  River,  at  the 
rate  of  four  good  miles  to  the  hour.  When  a  white  man 
walks  at  that  speed  through  West  Africa  mid-day  heat,  it 
is  only  because  some  question  of  life  or  death  hangs  upon 
the  speed;  though  in  this  case  Carter  told  himself  that  love 
was  the  same  as  life.  He  pinned  his  eyes  on  the  Smooth 
River  palms,  which  the  refraction  made  to  dance  up  and 
down  most  coquettishly,  and  repeated  this  over  and  over 
again,  because  another  voice  within  him  persisted  in  sneer- 
ing something  about  two  very  lonely  people  with  nothing 
to  do,  who  were  not  in  love  at  all,  but  merely  bored  with 
idleness  and  their  own  society;  and  finally  he  got  quite 
angry  over  the  matter.  He  stuck  out  his  great  dogged 
chin,  and  presently  cursed  aloud.  He  shook  his  fist  at 
the  splendor  of  the  tropical  sun.  "  I  do  love  the  girl,"  he 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER  71 

declared,  "  and  I  will  marry  her  in  spite  of  my  father,  and 
K.,  and  everyone,  if  she  will  have  me.  Curse  it!  Why 
should  I  hesitate  when  I  love  her?  This  infernal  climate 
is  making  me  as  slack  and  undecided  as  even  poor  old 
Slade." 

So  with  the  surf  booming  ceaselessly  in  his  ears,  and 
the  sea-smoke  driving  over  him  and  making  his  white  drill 
collar  damp  and  sticky,  he  marched  resolutely  on  to  meet 
Fate. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE   COMING   OF   THE   OKZY-MEN 

THE  attack  on  Smooth  River  factory  did  not  take  place 
without  due  warning.  It  seemed  that  a  large  caravan  of 
native  merchants  from  the  hinterland  had  come  through 
the  Okky  country  with  a  fine  cargo  of  produce  since  the 
King  had  stopped  the  roads.  Whether  they  had  cut  new 
roads  through  the  bush  for  themselves,  or  fought  their  way 
past  the  obstructing  ju-ju,  they  did  not  explain;  they  ar- 
rived at  the  factory  with  kernels,  a  few  tusks  of  discolored 
ivory,  a  few  quills  of  water-worn  gold,  and  a  fine  parcel 
of  high-grade  rubber,  which  were  duly  valued;  they  took 
cloth,  six  flint-lock  guns,  a  case  or  two  of  gin,  and  the 
balance  in  pink  Kola-nuts  by  way  of  payment;  and  with 
these  on  the  skulls  of  their  carriers,  they  marched  away 
along  the  Beach  and  out  of  this  history. 

Then  presently  there  came  down  envoys  from  the  King 
of  Okky  demanding  with  a  fine  inconsistency  that  O'Neill 
and  Craven's  factory  should  pay  his  Majesty  the  transit 
blackmail  which  he  had  been  unable  to  collect  himself. 
Carter  was  sent  for,  post-haste,  from  Malla-Nulla,  and  was 
at  first  minded  to  tell  those  envoys  to  go  to  a  kingdom 
which  repute  says  is  even  hotter  than  West  Africa.  But 
thoughts  of  Laura  living  there  by  herself,  and  a  dread  of 
the  horrors  of  native  war  made  him  offer  a  compromise. 
"  Open  the  roads,"  said  he,  "  and  we'll  pay  up  these  fellows' 
dues,  though  your  King  knows  perfectly  well  he  hasn't  an 
atom  of  claim  on  this  factory.  It's  the  custom  for  traders 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  73 

to  pay  for  going  through  a  country  if  they  can't  avoid 
paying ;  they  never  pay  once  they  are  through ;  and  never, 
never,  never,  throughout  all  the  wicked  history  of  Africa 
has  there  been  a  case  of  an  English  factory  being  fool 
enough  to  pay  toll  which  its  casual  customers  have  slipped 
through  without  paying.  But,  as  I  say,  I  am  ready  to  meet 
you  in  the  matter.  Open  the  roads  and  I'll  dash  you  this 
amount  you  ask  for." 

Kwaka,  the  head  envoy,  a  big,  fine,  bold-eyed  Hausa,  re- 
quested that  the  money  might  be  handed  them  there  and 
then. 

"Not  one  sixpence,"  said  Carter,  "till  the  roads  are 
opened." 

The  Hausa  was  a  professional  soldier,  and  here  he  could 
see  was  going  to  be  a  chance  of  working  at  his  trade.  He 
gleefully  delivered  the  King  of  Okky's  ultimatum.  If  the 
tribute  was  not  paid,  the  King  would  withdraw  his  permis- 
sion for  O'Neill  and  Craven's  factories  to  exist  on  the 
Coast. 

"  Tell  your  old  King,"  said  the  Englishman  contemptu- 
ously, "  that  he  may  have  authority  over  his  own  filthy 
mud-villages  inland,  but  his  law  does  not  carry  along  the 
Coast,  as  he  knows  full  well.  The  Coast  is  the  white 
man's." 

Things  were  going  exactly  as  Kwaka  could  have  wished. 
The  man  with  the  red  head  was  warming  up  nicely.  "  If 
you  fight  when  we  come  down  to  the  factory,"  said  Kwaka, 
"  I  will  see  to  it  that  you  are  crucified  separately.  I  should 
like  to  take  the  woman  who  lives  here  into  my  own  harem, 
but  the  King  has  bespoken  her  already." 

"  You,"  said  Carter  sa  sagely,  "  a  Moslem,  ought  to  know 
shame  for  living  in  the  employ  of  pagans  like  Okky-men. 
If  you  come  back  here,  my  first  shot  shall  be  for  you,  and 
after  you  are  dead  I  will  have  that  done  to  your  face  with 


74  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

the  white  man's  doctor's  tools  as  shall  forever  spoil  its 
beauty.  So  that  when  the  Prophet  takes  you  up  into  Para- 
dise, even  the  least  of  the  houris  will  shrink  from  you  and 
hide  her  eyes  from  all  sight  of  you  in  the  folds  of  her 
green  robe.  Just  you  stick  that  in  your  memory,  Mr. 
Kwaka,  and  don't  come  boasting  'round  here.  Observe,  I 
am  a  man  of  my  hands :  I  can  make  white  iron  burn." 

He  pulled  a  length  of  magnesium  wire  from  his  pocket 
and  lit  it  with  a  match.  The  big  Hausa  stared  owlishly  at 
the  fierce  white  flame. 

"  That  is  the  glare  of  Gehenna,"  said  Carter,  "  into  which 
if  you  come  to  Smooth  River  again  you  will  presently 
descend,  after  being  cast  out  from  Paradise  because  of  the 
reason  I  mentioned.  You  have  now  my  permission  to 
depart.  And  I  wonder,"  he  added  to  himself,  "  if  my 
Mohammedan  theology  is  fairly  correct.  Kwaka's  swal- 
lowed it  right  enough,  but  if  he  hands  it  along  to  a  mullah, 
he  may  find  a  flaw,  and  we  shall  have  the  whole  brood  of 
them  down  about  our  ears  in  half  no-time." 

However  the  portent  was  sufficiently  startling  for  the 
moment.  Kwaka  argued  that  a  man  who  could  make  iron 
burn  could  doubtless  (as  he  claimed)  spoil  the  good  looks 
of  a  True  Believer  by  some  other  of  his  infernal  arts,  and 
therefore  was  a  person  whom  it  would  be  healthy  to  let 
alone.  So  he  and  his  escort  took  themselves  off  into  the 
forest  as  unobtrusively  as  might  be. 

But  with  Laura,  Carter  took  another  tone.  "  Look  here, 
my  dear,"  he  said,  "  you  simply  must,  run  across  to  the 
Canaries  till  things  have  simmered  down  again  here.  I 
don't  want  to  alarm  you,  but  it's  quite  on  the  cards  that 
infernal  old  Mormon  of  a  King  may  take  it  into  his  woolly 
head  to  be  dangerous.  Yo  n've  had  one  taste  of  his  quality 
already." 

"  Two/'  said  the  girl,  and  shuddered,  "  and  he's  sent  my 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  75 

father  presents  and  messages  since.  But  I  can't  go  away 
from  Smooth  River,  at  any  rate  till  my  father  comes  back. 
He  left  me  in  charge,  you  see." 

"  Which  I  think  very  improper  of  him.  I  don't  believe 
in  girls  being  mixed  up  in  business  matters,  at  any  rate  in 
West  Africa,  and  I  am  sure  K.  O'Neill  would  be  frightfully 
down  on  it — what  are  you  laughing  at?  Laura,  tell  me 
one-time  what  you  are  sniggering  about  in  that  ridiculous 
way.  Oh,  I  see.  You  think  I  have  never  seen  Mr.  K.  arid 
am  talking  through  my  hat.  Well,  my  dear,  if  you  had 
read  fifty  times  over  every  letter  that  K.  has  written  to 
Malla-Nulla  factory  during  the  last  eighteen  months,  you 
would  know  that  man  and  his  likes  and  his  dislikes,  and 
his  ambitions,  and  his  cranks  just  about  as  accurately  as  I 
do.  Anyway,  I  repeat,  he'd  hate  to  have  you  here  in 
charge." 

"  Just  remember  that  I  don't  agree  with  you  one  bit, 
Mr.  Carter." 

"  Very  well,  Miss  Slade,  you  can  jolly  well  do  the  other 
thing.  But  take  charge  here  I  shall,  and  go  to  the  Islands 
you  must.  There's  a  B.  and  A.  boat  due  to  call  at  Monk 
River  the  day  but  one  after  to-morrow.  I'll  send  for  our 
surf  boat,  and  we'll  take  you  there  in  style.  Won't  you 
have  a  ripping  time -of  it  at  Las  Palmas  and  up  in  the 
Monte !  I  wonder  what  the  new  hotel's  like  up  there.  And 
I  say,  Laura,  go  down  to  that  farm  at  the  bottom  of  the 
Caldera,  and  I  bet  you  a  new  hat  it  takes  you  half  an  hour 
longer  than  my  record  time  to  get  up  again  as  far  as 
Atalaya — Hullo,  what's  the  matter  now  ?  " 

"You  are  making  things  rather  hard  for  me.  I'd  go 
away  from  this  hateful  Coast  if  I  could,  but  we  simply 
can't  afford  it,  and  there  you  have  the  bare  fact." 

"  But  I  thought " 

"  Oh,  yes,  of  course  you  did,  that  father  was  a  sort  of 


76  KATE    MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

local  millionaire.  Well,  he  isn't.  He  did  once  have  private 
means,  but  that  I  think  was  before  I  was  born,  and  only 
the  reputation  of  them  remains  now.  He's  made  big  com- 
missions on  the  factory's  trading,  I  know,  but  he's  invested 
badly,  and  I  think  he's  been  robbed.  Probably,  too,  I've 
been  extravagant." 

"  Rubbish." 

"  Well,  anyway,  the  money's  gone,  and  the  brutal  truth 
is  I  haven't  a  sovereign  in  the  world." 

"Good  Lord!  You  ought  not  to  have  been  left  here 
like  that.  It  was  beastly  careless  of  Slade." 

"He  never  thought  of  it.  And  if  he  had,  he  couldn't 
have  done  anything.  His  equipment  of  course  came  from 
about  the  factory,  but  as  regards  money,  he  went  away 
without  a  pound  in  his  pocket.  There  aren't  shops  that 
one  can  spend  money  in  to  be  found  up  in  the  bush." 

"  It's  disgustingly  awkward,"  said  Carter  frowning.  "  Of 
course  every  penny  that  I  have  in  the  world  would  be  as 
much  yours  as  it  ever  had  been  mine,  but  the  fact  is,  my 
dear,  I've  paid  it  all  away  as  it  came.  You  see,  in  a  way 
I  was  a  sort  of  bad  egg  before  I  got  a  billet  out  here  on 
the  Coast,  where,  I  suppose,  if  you  come  to  look  at  it,  there 
are  small  opportunities  of  roystering.  Besides,  with  Mr. 
Smith  always  before  one  as  an  example  of  what^  not  to  be, 
it  doesn't  take  very  much  resolution  to  keep  straight.  Any- 
way, in  ancient  days  I  ran  up  all  the  debts  I  could  get 
tick  for,  and  I  landed  in  the  poor  old  Pater  for  a  lot  more 
than  a  younger  son's  share.  Well,  what  with  selling  curios 
through  that  old  blackguard  Balgarnie  on  the  M'poso  (who 
I  know  robs  me  of  half  the  proceeds),  and  commission  on 
our  turnover  at  Malla-Nulla,  which  has  increased  a  lot 
since  I've  been  there  (till  of  course  this  row  cropped  up), 
and  my  small  bit  of  regular  screw,  altogether  I've  made 
a  very  decent  income,  and  I've  taken  a  bit  of  pride  in  pay- 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  77 

ing  off  the  old  debts  with  ten  per  cent,  of  interest  added. 
I  knew  that  extra  ten  per  cent,  would  tickle  some  of  them 
frightfully.  It  was  just  that  chunk  of  interest  that  cleaned 
me  out  down  to  the  bone,  and  I  chucked  it  in  because  I 
thought  one  could  not  possibly  want  hard  cash  down  on 
the  Coast  here.  What  idiots  men  are  to  let  themselves  run 
short  of  money !  However,  I  shall  have  another  quarter's 
screw  due  in  a  couple  of  months'  time  and  in  the  mean- 
while you  must  go  to  the  Islands  on  tick." 

"  You're  a  dear  good  boy,  but  it  can't  be  done.  I  shall 
stay  on  here  and  make  the  best  of  things." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  young  woman.  You 
will  travel  on  a  Madeira  chair  in  a  palatial  surf  boat  as  far 
as  Monk  River  as  we  just  now  arranged,  and  then  I  shall 
walk  on  board  the  B.  and  A.  boat  with  you,  and  explain  to 
the  purser  who  you  are,  and  everything  will  be  as  right  as 
ninepence." 

She  looked  at  him  with  full  eyes.  "You  make  things 
difficult  for  me." 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it.  I'm  the  man  that's  going  to  shoulder 
the  difficulties." 

"  Oh,  you  didn't  know  it.  But  if  you  asked  a  favor  for 
my  father's  daughter  from  the  purser  of  the  Secondee — 
she's  the  boat  that's  due — you  would  get  an  unkind  an- 
swer. We're  in  debt  all  round,  and  I'm  afraid  he  didn't 
behave  very  well  to  either  the  purser  or  the  captain  of  the 
Secondee.  Now,  please  do  not  press  me  any  more.  I  stay 
here  at  Smooth  River  factory." 

George  Carter  hit  the  table  with  his  fist.  "  Th  3n  I 
stay,  too.  The  da  Silvas  will  put  me  up,  and  if  they  ob- 
ject, I'll  turn  them  out  into  the  bush  and  live  in  their 
house  alone.  Malla-Nulla  must  look  after  itself." 

"  What  will  Mr.  K.  say  to  that? " 

"He  will  approve.  K.'s  a  tough  nut  in  business  mat- 
ters, but  he's  a  man  all  through." 


78  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

"  Is  he  ?  "  said  the  girl  with  a  queer  smile.  "  I  don't 
agree  with  you." 

"  One  may  not  at  the  moment  like  the  way  he  hustles 
one  along  in  his  letters/'  said  Carter  stou  ly,  "  but  he's  a 
man  all  through,  and  if  he  was  to  get  to  know  how  things 
are  fixed  here,  and  to  hear  I'd  stuck  to  my  own  job  at 
Malla-Nulla  and  left  you  in  the  lurch  at  Smooth  Eiver, 
he'd  fire  me  one-time,  even  if  he  had  to  get  a  steamer 
specially  stopped  to  land  his  mail.  No,  K.  O'Neill  would 
have  no  use  for  brutes  of  that  description  in  his  employ. 
Now,  if  you'll  be  so  very  nice,  my  dear,  as  to  pick  up  that 
swizzle-stick  and  make  me  a  good  grippy  cocktail,  when 
I've  had  that  I'll  go  out  and  do  what  I  can  to  discourage 
the  Okky  men  if  they  see  fit  to  pay  a  call." 

Now,  his  Majesty  the  King  of  Okky  once  boasted  to  a 
West  African  official  that  he  could  put  20,000  spearmen 
into  the  field,  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  this  was  an  over- 
estimate. Moreover  many  of  the  Okky  troops  carried  flint- 
lock guns  and  matchets  in  place  of  the  spear,  and  others 
again  were  bowmen,  and  still  others  wielded  the  Dahomey 
axe.  But  his  Majesty  was  a  parvenu  king  who  had  fought 
his  way  to  the  throne,  and  he  saw  to  it  that  there  was  no 
inefficiency  in  his  War  Office.  He  made  the  conditions  of 
service  sufficiently  pleasant  to  tempt  in  the  fighting  Mos- 
lemin  from  the  Hausa  country,  and  these  fine  soldiers  of 
fortune  gave  the  needful  stiffening  to  his  own  pagan  levies. 

Then,  also,  the  King  of  Okky  made  full  use  of  the  great 
cult  of  Ju-ju.  The  average  West  African  king  is  com- 
pletely under  the  thumb  of  the  ju-ju  men,  and  if  he  is  not 
actually  their  nominee  and  puppet,  he  knows  that  if  he 
runs  at  all  counter  to  their  wishes  and  policy,  he  will  die 
some  frantic  death  devised  by  the  cleverest  poisoners  on 
earth.  But  King  Kallee  the  First  was  not  only  King  of 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  79 

Okky  but  he  was  also  Head  Ju-ju  man  of  that  mysterious 
state,  or  as  it  is  sometimes  written,  Head  Witch-doctor. 
He  could,  when  he  chose,  hale  a  subject  from  his  dwelling 
and  pin  him  to  the  Okky  City  crucifixion  tree  for  no  further 
reason  than  his  kingly  will.  He  could  also  cause  a  piece  of 
fluttering  rag,  or  a  bunch  of  hen's  feathers  to  be  tied  above 
a  subject's  lintel,  and  that  subject  and  all  his  household 
would  not  dare  to  pass  the  charm;  nor  would  anyone  else 
dare  to  have  communion  with  them;  so  that  in  the  end 
they  would  die  of  hunger  and  thirst  and  become  a  pesti- 
lence to  the  community  among  whom  they  had  lived;  and 
no  one  thought  of  raising  the  breath  of  objection.  The 
King  had  put  ju-ju  on  one  of  his  own  subjects,  and  that 
was  all. 

Moreover  the  King,  having  set  eyes  on  Laura  Slade, 
wished  to  instal  her  in  a  wing  of  the  great  mud  palace  of 
Okky  as  his  wife.  So  far,  throughout  life,  when  he  had 
created  a  wish,  fulfilment  followed  as  a  matter  of  course, 
be  the  means  what  they  might.  In  his  demands  for  Laura, 
Kallee  was  at  times  amazed  at  his  own  moderation.  He 
had  approached  Slade  (who  to  him  was  the  girl's  proprietor) 
just  as  one  native  gentleman  might  approach  another,  and 
inquired  her  price.  Slade,  who  could  not  give  a  decisive 
answer  even  to  such  a  preposterous  matter  as  this,  tempor- 
ized after  his  usual  custom.  The  King  naturally  saw  in 
this  a  scheme  to  enhance  the  girl's  price  and  displayed  royal 
munificence.  He  would  pay  Slade  a  thousand  puncheons  of 
palm  oil  and  a  thousand  bags  of  rubber,  and  two  thousand 
bags  of  kernels;  and  when  Slade  waived  this  aside  and 
spoke  of  his  daughter's  reluctance  for  matrimony,  Kallee 
spoke  of  the  splendor  in  which  his  chief  queen  would  live. 
Slaves  in  all  abundance,  cloth  as  fine  as  silk,  ornaments  of 
gold,  and  an  American  alarm  clock  should  be  hers;  her 
food  should  be  coos-cousoo  of  the  finest,  her  drink  should 


80  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

be  Heidsieck  of  a  vintage  year  exclusively.  All  the  affairs 
of  State  should  be  exhibited  for  her  approval,  and  even 
his  two  brass  cannon  should  be  housed  in  her  apartments. 
The  King  showed  himself  to  be  the  royal  lover  in  lavish 
perfection,  and  Slade  could  not  bring  himself  to  cut  short 
the  offer  and  tell  him  that  the  whole  thing  was  impossible. 
He  temporized,  and  congratulated  himself  each  time  the 
matter  came  up  on  having  got  rid  of  the  King  without  rup- 
ture of  their  friendly  relations. 

However,  the  royal  patience,  which  had  never  been 
strung  out  to  such  a  length  before,  reached  its  breaking 
strain  that  day  at  Malla-Nulla  under  circumstances  already 
recorded,  and  what  the  King  could  not  obtain  by  this  new 
diplomacy  he  very  naturally  made  up  his  mind  to  get  hold 
of  by  methods  which  were  more  native  to  his  experience. 

Being  moreover  a  strategist  with  a  good  deal  of  sound 
elementary  skill,  he  did  not  give  the  enemy  time  to  bring 
in  reinforcements  after  the  first  news  of  danger.  Kwaka's 
embassy  was  a  reconnoitring  expedition  as  much  as  any- 
thing, and  the  detail  that  the  brazen  Kwaka  should  be 
scared  out  of  his  seven  senses  by  the  man  whose  red  head 
the  King  had  already  ordered  for  a  palace  ornament,  was 
a  small  thing  which  stood  beyond  his  calculation.  A  force 
of  500  picked  men  lay  in  bivouac  a  bare  five  miles  inland 
from  the  factory;  the  ju-ju  signs  on  the  bush  roads  pro- 
tected these  from  all  espionage;  and  when  night  fell,  a 
ju-ju  man  who  was  the  King's  special  envoy  performed 
a  ceremony  which  he  said,  and  which  they  understood, 
granted  the  soldiers  a  special  dispensation  against  those 
ghosts  which  all  West  African  natives  know  haunt  the 
darkness.  So  they  advanced  to  the  attack  through  the 
gloom  of  the  steaming  forest  shades,  those  of  them  who 
were  pagans  with  high  spirit  and  fine  hopes  of  loot,  and 
those  of  them  who  were  Moslemin  filled  with  a  vague  fear 
which  they  gleamed  from  Kwaka's  hints. 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  81 

Now  Carter  did  not  fall  into  the  usual  Englishman's 
trick  of  despising  his  enemy.  Indeed  he  had  that  figure  of 
20,000  fighting  men  firmly  lodged  in  his  head,  and  short  of 
the  opportune  arrival  of  a  British  gunboat,  expected  sooner 
or  later  a  furious  fight.  But  he  reckoned  that  Kwaka  would 
have  to  go  back  to  Okky  City  with  his  report,  and  after- 
wards return  from  thence  with  an  attacking  force ;  and  he 
counted  also  on  the  African's  fear  of  ghosts,  and  looked 
with  confidence  to  no  disturbance  during  the  hours  of 
darkness. 

So  although  he  worked  the  sweating  factory  hands  at 
high  pressure  in  piling  up  puncheons  and  cases,  and  bales 
of  cloth,  and  sacks  of  salt  into  a  substantial  breastwork, 
he  went  to  bed  himself  that  night  and  felt,  as  he  tucked 
in  the  edge  of  the  mosquito  bar,  that  few  white  men  on 
the  Coast  had  ever  earned  better  a  spell  of  sleep. 

It  was  at  2  A.M.  when  the  Okky  yell  and  the  crash  of  a 
volley  of  pot-leg  woke  him,  and  he  leaped  up  and  through 
the  gauze  in  one  jump.  He  ran  out  onto  the  veranda,  and 
met  there  Laura  Slade.  She  was  dressed,  and  had  in  her 
hand  the  cheap  Skipton  revolver  which  he  had  given  her, 
and  towards  the  purchase  of  which  his  father  had  once 
contributed  a  hard-to-spare  ten  shillings  out  of  the  whole 
half  guinea  that  it  cost.  Moonlight  poured  down  upon  them 
pure  and  silvery  from  a  clear  night  overhead,  but  all  the 
land  below  up  to  the  level  of  the  veranda  was  filled  with  a 
mist  that  was  white  and  thick  as  cotton  wool.  In  this  fog 
invisible  black  men  screamed  and  yelled  and  cursed,  and 
occasionally  there  came  to  them  the  red  glare,  and  the  roar, 
and  the  raw  black-powder-smoke  smell  of  the  flintlocks. 

"The  beggars  will  rush  those  barricades,"  said  Carter, 
"  if  I  don't  look  out.  You  stay  here,  Laura,  and  put  that 
pistol  down.  It's  a  beastly  dangerous  toy." 

"I  may  want  it  for  myself." 


82  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  Don't  be  melodramatic.  Now  run  into  the  mess-room, 
there's  a  good  girl,  and  get  down  those  two  Winchesters, 
and  load  up  the  magazines.  I'm  going  down  to  help  the 
boys." 

But  even  as  he  spoke  there  came  a  sudden  hard  puff 
of  the  land  breeze  that  made  the  mist  swirl  and  twist  up 
into  ghostly  life,  and  left  canals  and  pools  of  clearness. 
He  darted  inside,  snatched  up  one  of  the  rifles,  and 
crammed  it  full  of  cartridges.  "  I  wish  I'd  a  scatter-gun," 
he  said.  "I  used  to  be  a  nailer  at  rabbits  and  the  occa- 
sional grouse  at  home.  However,  it  won't  do  to  miss  here, 
although  the  tool  is  new."  He  threw  up  the  weapon  to 
his  shoulder,  and  shot  as  a  game  shot  shoots,  with  head 
erect  and  both  eyes  staring  wide  at  a  leather  charm-case 
on  the  broad  black  chest  which  he  picked  as  his  object. 
He  did  not  know  how  to  squint  along  the  barrel.  Then 
he  pressed  home  the  trigger,  and  had  the  thrill  of  knowing 
that  he  had  shot  his  first  man.  .  .  .  He  warmed  to  the 
work  after  that,  and  fired  on  and  on  with  deadly  speed  and 
accuracy,  till  the  heated  barrels  of  the  repeaters  burned 
Laura  Slade's  hands  as  she  charged  the  magazines  beneath 
them.  From  somewhere  in  the  lower  part  of  the  factory 
came  White-Man's-Trouble,  and  when  in  answer  to  the 
fusillade,  showers  of  pot-leg  began  to  rustle  over  the  ver- 
anda and  scream  through  the  roof,  that  valiant  person 
presently  dragged  out  bedding  to  form  a  breastwork.  But 
although  Carter  kicked  him  till  his  foot  ached  the  Krooboy 
would  not  show  his  own  head  over  it  sufficiently  to  use  a 
gun  for  the  mutual  defence.  He  stuck  to  it  stolidly  that 
he  was  a  "  plenty-too-much  bad  shot,"  and  Carter  was  too 
much  occupied  in  keeping  up  his  own  fire  to  spare  time  for 
further  coercion.  But  as  he  changed  rifles  with  Laura,  he 
said  every  poisonous  thing  to  White-Man's-Trouble  that  his 
mind  could  invent,  and  that  African  listened,  but  made 
neither  answer  nor  reply. 


He  fired  on  and  on  with  deadly  speed  and  accuracy,  till  the 
heated  barrels  of  the  repeaters  burned  Laura  Slade's  hands. 
Page  82. 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER  83 

The  fight  was  going  badly  against  the  factory  force.  The 
Okky  men's  original  surprise  had  been  very  complete,  and 
they  had  rushed  the  outer  line  of  the  defences  all  round. 
The  inner  line  consisted  merely  of  the  buildings;  and  the 
factory  boys  had  bolted  for  these,  and  had  joined  the 
mulatto  clerks  and  the  Portuguese  who  were  there  already. 
The  whole  defence,  of  course,  was  badly  managed;  but  then 
it  must  be  remembered  that  it  was  devised  by  traders,  not 
by  soldiers.  If  it  had  not  been  for  Carter's  education  on 
the  moors  and  warrens  of  Upper  Wharfedale,  and  his  con- 
sequent deadliness  with  a  rifle  against  rushes  at  close  quar- 
ters, the  factory  would  have  been  put  to  the  storm  within 
five  minutes  of  the  first  attack. 

Besides,  with  a  few  exceptions,  the  factory  boys  were 
Kroos ;  and  these,  though  they  are  magnificent  workers  and 
about  as  amphibious  as  seals,  are  emphatically  not  fighting 
men.  They  battled  manfully  enough  after  the  shock  of  the 
first  surprise,  and  because  no  path  of  escape  offered  itself; 
and  whilst  there  were  trade  guns  to  fire,  they  derived  a 
fine  encouragement  from  the  noise  of  the  black  trade- 
powder  explosions,  and  the  acrid  smell  of  smoke.  But  few 
of  them  made  any  attempt  to  reload  their  flintlocks  a 
second  time,  and  for  cold  matchet  work  at  close  quarters 
they  had  little  appetite.  So  by  ones,  and  twos,  and  tens, 
they  began  slipping  off  into  the  bush  (to  be  hunted  down 
piecemeal  by  the  savage  enemy  later  on)  and  soon  only  the 
clerks  and  the  two  fever-shaken  Portuguese  were  left  alive 
in  the  lower  buildings. 

It  was  at  this  point  a  new  engine  was  added  to  the  at- 
tack. Dawn  had  just  leaped  up  yellow  and  sickly  over  the 
sea,  when  a  crash  rang  out  that  jarred  the  air  and  every 
building  about  the  place. 

"  Hear  that  ?  "  croaked  Carter.  "  That's  a  cannon,  and 
a  brass  one  as  you  can  tell  by  the  ring.  It's  probably  one 


84  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

of  those  old  brass  guns  that  the  Portuguese  used  to  cast  for 
the  natives  two  hundred  years  ago.  One  of  my  curiosity 
dealers  promised  me  fifty  golden  sovereigns  for  a  genuine 
specimen.  If  I  don't  spot  that  gun  and  pick  off  the  men 
who  are  serving  it,  they'll  jug  us  for  a  certainty.  But 
they've  got  the  blessed  thing  so  jolly  well  hidden  among  the 
bush !  Well,  I'm  going  to  ease  up  on  my  own  shooting  and 
watch  for  the  next  flash.  Get  me  a  drink,  you  plucky  dar- 
ling, will  you,  or  else  my  throat  will  crack  in  two.  Bring 
a  chattie  of  water;  that's  what  I  want.  The  heat  of  this 
night  has  been  about  the  worst  I  have  known  on  the  Coast." 

"  It  is  too  hot  to  last,"  said  the  girl.  "  I'm  afraid  even 
the  water  in  the  chattie  will  be  as  warm  as  tea." 

She  went  into  the  mess-room,  and  presently  came  back 
on  hands  and  knees  to  keep  below  the  showers  of  pot-leg 
which  were  persistently  whistling  overhead,  and  gave  him 
the  wet  porous  bottle,  and  crouched  beside  him  under  the 
breastwork  as  he  drank. 

"  Well,  my  sweetheart,"  said  Carter,  "  if  it  isn't  unlucky 
to  drink  one's  best  girl's  health  in  water,  here's  your  toast ! 
You're  the  finest  plucked  lassie  in  all  the  wide  and  won- 
drous earth,  and  now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  I  don't  believe 
I  ever  proposed  to  you." 

"  No,  you  never  did.    I  don't  see  why  you  should." 

"  Stick  your  head  lower  down.  That  thing  that  said 
'  whisp-whisp  ! '  was  a  rifle-bullet.  They've  got  a  blooming 
marksman  down  there,  and  I  can't  have  you  picked  off. 
And  don't  talk  rubbish.  You  know  you're  jolly  going  to 
marry  me  as  soon  as  ever  we  can  afford  it,  if  ever  we  get 
out  of  this,  which  isn't  likely."  He  clapped  an  arm  snugly 
round  her,  and  w-o-s-h  came  a  load  of  pot-leg  into  the 
other  side  of  the  bedding  which  protected  them.  "  Got  any 
silly  objections  to  make  to  that  ?  " 

"  Have  you  thought  over  what  it  means,  George  ?  You 
know  I'm  not  white." 


KATE   MEBEDITH,   FINANCIEE  85 

"Bosh!  Anyway  you're  white  enough  for  me.  Let  go 
the  chattie.  And  as  I  said  before,  Here's  luck.  Ugh ! 
African  river  water,  half  mud,  half  essence  of  nigger  from 
higher  up.  Moreover,  as  you  remarked,  hot  as  tea.  Bang  ! 
there  goes  that  infernal  cannon  again,  and  Fve  been  gos- 
siping with  you — proposing,  I  mean — and  haven't  seen  the 
flash.  Plunked  a  shot  into  one  of  the  palm  oil  puncheons 
in  the  store  below,  by  the  sound  of  it.  Hullo,  here  comes 
the  wind.  Now,  somebody  will  have  his  hair  combed." 

As  though  the  discharge  of  the  ancient  brass  gun  had 
been  a  signal,  a  tornado  opened  upon  them  without  warn- 
ing, and  almost  in  its  full  strength  in  the  first  blast. 

One  minute  there  was  a  stagnant  calm,  with  air  so  hot 
and  stale  that  it  hardly  seemed  to  refresh  one  to  breathe  it. 
The  next  wind  travelling  often  at  a  hundred  miles  an  hour 
bellowed  and  roared  at  them  in  tearing  spasms  of  fury. 
The  factory  building  reeled  and  groaned  at  its  impact. 
Sticks,  boards,  corrugated  roofing  and  empty  barrels  solved 
the  problem  of  aerial  flight.  The  close-grown  trees  of  the 
forest  that  hemmed  the  factory  in  on  the  landward  side 
were  flattened  earthwards  as  though  by  the  pressure  of  some 
unseen  giant  hand ;  yes,  flattened  down,  and  down,  till  one 
thought  that  any  human  beings  that  were  beneath  them 
must  inevitably  be  crushed  out  of  all  living  shape  into  the 
foul,  soft  swampy  ground  beneath.  And  in  cold  truth  some 
of  the  Okky  men  who  cowered  there  during  the  enforced 
lull  of  the  attack  did  so  die. 

The  firing  had  ceased  automatically  on  both  sides,  and  a 
bombardment  of  sticks,  leaves,  sand  and  stones  pelted  them 
all  unmercifully.  It  was  impossible  to  face  the  wind;  in- 
deed, so  violent  was  the  torrent  of  air,  that  the  mere  act  of 
taking  breath  became  a  matter  of  the  nicest  art. 

The  girl  lay  crouched  under  the  huddle  of  bedding,  buf- 
fetted  into  semi-unconsciousness,  with  Carter's  arm  holding 


86  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

her  tight  down  to  the  floor  boards  of  the  veranda.  He  put 
his  lips  to  her  ear  and  bawled  a  message.  She  shook  her 
head.  Through  the  insane  yell  of  the  wind  she  could  not 
hear  a  word.  He  laughed  and  kissed  her,  and  then,  taking 
away  his  protecting  arm,  worked  his  perilous  way  like  some 
clinging,  creeping  thing  into  the  inside  of  the  dwelling. 

Even  this  was  filled  with  the  wind.  A  door,  smashed 
from  its  hinges,  clattered  noisily  about  in  one  corner,  as 
though  it  had  been  some  uncouth  mechanical  toy  propelled 
by  clumsy  clockwork.  Everything  movable  hopped  on  the 
floor,  or  danced  from  the  walls.  And  of  course  to  this  dis- 
order was  added  all  the  dishevelment  which  had  been 
caused  by  the  volleys  of  jagged  cast  iron  fired  through  the 
flimsy  walls  by  the  Okky  men's  flintlocks.  But  Carter  knew 
what  he  wanted,  and  sought  for  it  with  a  single  mind. 

Presently  from  amongst  the  debris  he  emerged  with  a 
four-gallon  drum;  and  then  he  worked  his  way  to  a  cup- 
board where  Slade  kept  his  store  of  cigarettes.  Luckily  it 
was  full.  Slade  had  boarded  a  steamer  lately  where  his 
credit  in  the  forecastle  shop  was  still  untarnished,  and  his 
plausible  tongue  had  procured  him  a  whole  two-dozen  case 
of  half-hundred  tins  on  some  ingenious  deferred-payment 
scheme  of  his  own.  There  were  twenty-two  of  the  green 
tins  left,  and  Carter  got  them  all  out,  opened  them,  and 
recklessly  emptied  their  contents  onto  the  floor.  With  in- 
finite pains,  and  sheltering  the  liquid  from  the  blast  under 
his  coat,  he  decanted  the  contents  of  the  big  drum  into 
the  tins  till  all  were  full.  Then  he  re-lidded  them,  and 
jabbed  a  hole  with  his  penknife  in  each  lid. 

He  rebuilt  them  into  their  own  wooden  case  as  he  primed 
them,  and  when  this  was  full,  dragged  it  out  through  the 
doorway  into  the  casemate  of  mattresses.  Laura  and  White- 
Man's-Trouble  still  crouched  there  helplessly,  and  the  tor- 
nado still  yelled  and  roared  and  boomed.  It  was  carrying 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  87 

water  with  it  now,  bitter  salt  from  the  sea,  and  whipping 
the  face  like  hail  where  it  impinged. 

Carter  was  breathless  and  panting  by  the  time  he  had 
managed  once  more  to  drag  himself  under  the  shelter  of 
the  bedding;  but  he  was  keenly  alive  to  the  needs  of  the 
immediate  future.  Already  he  noted  a  diminution  in  the 
tornado's  fury;  the  hustling  cloud  of  sticks,  and  leaves, 
and  branches,  which  it  carried  along  was  growing  less  thick, 
and  although  this  was  by  far  the  hardest  hurricane  he  had 
ever  seen,  he  knew  from  previous  acquaintance  with  the 
breed  that  it  might  well  drop  to  perfect  calm  as  suddenly 
as  it  had  arisen. 

As  a  point  of  fact  it  deceived  him.  The  wind  lulled, 
and  the  forest  trees  swung  upwards  in  unison  as  though 
they  had  been  performing  a  trick.  The  air  cleared,  and 
Carter  raised  his  head  to  try  and  spot  the  part  of  the  bush 
where  the  brass  gun  was  masked.  A  black  man  sprang 
from  the  undergrowth,  lifted  a  gun,  fired,  and  missed. 
Carter  threw  up  the  Winchester  for  a  snapshot. 

"  Got  him — Laura,  for  the  Lord's  sake  keep  down  in 
shelter,  or  they'll  pick  you  off  to  a  certainty.  Trouble,  you 
hound,  roll  up  those  pillows  and  blankets  underneath  you 
into  a  hard  wad,  and  stuff  them  into  that  gap  at  the  corner 
there " 

"Isn't  there  a  splendid  chill  after  that  awful  heat?"  the 
girl  said.  "  Wrap  up,  George,  or  you'll  have  fever.  Here's 
your  coat." 

"  Look  out,"  Carter  shouted.  "  Hold  on  all  with  those 
blankets.  Here  comes  more  tornado." 

Once  more  the  wind  slammed  down  upon  them  with  in- 
sane fury,  and  once  more  all  loose  inanimate  things  rose 
into  vigorous  flight.  The  forest  trees  cowered  down  into  the 
swamps  from  which  they  grew.  Solid  rods  of  rain  split 
against  the  factory  buildings,  and  sent  deluges  of  water 


88  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

squirting  through  the  bamboo  walls  as  though  the  match- 
wood backing  had  not  been  there.  The  roar  was  like  the 
continuous  passing  of  a  hundred  heavy  trains  over  a  hun- 
dred iron  bridges  all  side  by  side. 

Gone  altogether  now  was  the  stagnant  heat.  The  air 
was  scoured  clean,  and  it  was  forced  into  the  lungs  at  such 
high  pressure  that  it  exhilarated  one  like  some  deliciously 
choice  vintage  of  champagne. 

"  I'm  hanged  if  I  let  those  beggars  kill  us,"  Carter 
bawled  out  during  one  of  the  lulls.  "  In  this  splendid  air 
life's  too  gorgeous."  And  then  bump  came  the  wind  upon 
them  again. 

But  the  tornado  had  blown  out  the  heart  of  its  strength. 
In  five  more  minutes  the  wind  had  dropped,  the  rain 
ceased,  the  air  cleared,  the  sun  glared  out  overhead  and 
began  to  heat  the  tropical  day,  and  white  steam  oozed  up 
from  all  the  face  of  creation. 

This  time  Carter's  rifle  represented  the  whole  orchestra 
of  death  for  the  defence.  The  factory  Krooboys'  flintlocks 
spoke  no  more;  the  ill-aimed  Winchesters  of  the  snuff-and- 
butter  colored  da  Silva  and  his  wife  were  silent.  The 
Portuguese  and  the  factory  clerks,  and  the  factory  porters 
had  cannily  crawled  away  into  the  bush.  They  knew  noth- 
ing of  what  was  ahead  of  them  in  those  steamy  shades.  One 
certainty  alone  fluttered  big  in  their  minds,  and  that  was 
that  they  were  leaving  massacre  behind. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    INVISIBLE    FIRE 

IN  the  factories  which  dot  the  West  African  seaboard 
and  rivers,  death  is  such  a  constant  visitor  that  much  of  his 
grimness  had  faded.  At  home,  in  England,  or  America, 
or  Hamburg,  we  shiver  with  apprehension  whenever  our 
relative  who  is  "  out  on  the  West  Coast "  comes  up  into 
the  mind ;  but  the  relative  himself  takes  his  doses  of  fever 
when  they  fall  due  with  a  certain  callous  philosophy,  and 
on  his  emergence  shattered  and  shrunken  from  the  attack, 
congratulates  himself  on  not  being  a  candidate  for  a  gun- 
case  and  a  top  hat  that  time.  Those  who  go  up  in  the  bush 
and  are  there  engulfed,  those  who  get  drowned  in  the  ever- 
grinding  surf,  those  who  go  out  by  the  thousand  and  one 
opportunities  which  the  climate  and  the  surroundings  offer, 
slip  off  their  human  garb  with  an  easy  nonchalance;  and 
those  who  are  left  pronounce  some,  pithy  epitaph  over  the 
deceased,  and  go  on  with  their  quicker  interests. 

With  the  native  African,  death  is  an  event  of  even  smaller 
moment  still ;  and  in  the  event  of  a  quarrel,  one  competitor 
will  often  sit  down,  cuddle  his  knees,  shut  his  eyes,  and 
there  and  then  deliberately  suspend  his  vital  processes, 
merely  to  cause  temporary  annoyance  to  his  rival. 

Now,  the  above  paragraphs  are  somewhat  of  the  nature  of 
a  footnote  elevated  to  the  text.  But  they  are  necessary  at 
this  point  in  these  memoirs  to  explain  the  coolness  with 
which  Laura  and  Carter  viewed  the  near  prospect  of  extinc- 
tion. Neither  of  them  of  course  in  the  least  wished  to  die, 


90  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

but  it  never  occurred  to  them  to  face  death  with  anything 
beyond  the  usual  Coast  philosophy. 

"  I  shall  stick  Mr.  K.  for  a  rise  in  screw  if  we  get 
through  this,"  said  Carter. 

"  If  I  hadn't  made  a  promise,"  said  the  girl,  "  I  could 
tell  you  something  about  your  Mr.  K.  that  would  startle 
you." 

"  You're  a  tantalizing  baggage,  and  I've  a  good  mind  to 
pick  you  up  and  shake  it  out  of  you.  Gad !  Here  they  come. 
Now,  I'll  shoot,  and  you  get  a  box  of  matches  and  light 
those  bombs  for  White-Man's-Trouble  to  throw." 

"  Bombs !    Do  you  mean  the  cigarette-tins  ?  " 

"Yes.  You'd  a  big  brazing-lamp  in  the  factory.  Re- 
member it?  Well,  you  had.  And  that  meant  benzoline,  I 
guessed.  I  found  a  drum  full  of  it,  anyway,  and  I've 
loaded  up  those  tins  with  benzoline.  It'll  burn  like  winking 
in  this  sun,  and  the  niggers'll  never  see  the  flame.  Only 
thing  to  take  care  of,  is  not  to  set  light  to  the  factory. 
Now,  do  you  understand?" 

"  Yes,  dear." 

"  And  d'you  savvy,  Trouble  ?  " 

"  Savvy  plenty.  Oh,  Carter,  I  burn  my  leg  plenty-too- 
much  with  dem  damhot  lamp  once  on  steamah.  No  can 
see  flame  when  sun  lib  for  shine.  I  fit  for  serve  as  stand- 
by-at-crane  boy  once,  sar,  on  steamah." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Engineer,  throw  straight  and  don't  get  hoist 
by  your  own  petard.  By  the  living  Jink  we're  in  for  it 
now.  Throw,  Trouble,  for  all  you're  worth,  right  into  the 
blue  of  them." 

The  four-fifty  repeater  yap-yapped  its  messages,  and  the 
man  who  had  learned  to  shoot  quick  and  straight  amongst 
the  rabbits  and  grouse  of  Upper  Wharfedale,  made  deadly 
practice  at  this  bigger  game.  But  two  eight-shot  Winches- 
ters are  of  very  little  more  value  than  catapults  in  stopping 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  91 

the  rush  of  two  hundred  fighting  black  pagans  officered  by 
Moslemin  Hausas.  Beforehand  the  fire  of  the  Portuguese 
and  the  factory  Krooboys  had  held  them  off,  much  more 
by  its  noise  than  its  deadliness.  The  one  solitary  shooter 
who  remained,  they  held  in  scorn;  he  was  firing  white 
powder  in  the  Winchester,  and  the  smallness  of  the  noise 
and  the  absence  of  smoke  encouraged  them.  They  scorned 
to  shoot  at  him  with  their  flintlocks.  They  would  rush  in 
and  put  this  man  to  the  matchet,  and  save  the  girl  alive. 
And  thereafter,  when  they  rolled  the  red  head  at  King 
Kallee's  feet,  and  made  the  girl  stand  up  before  him,  many 
and  fine  presents  would  be  given  to  gladden  them  and  their 
women. 

So  they  gave  the  Okky  yell,  and  sprang  out  of  the  bush 
into  the  open,  and  rushed  across  the  clearing. 

But  lo,  presently  the  white  man  called  out,  "  Behold,  I 
put  ju-ju  on  you  blighters,"  and  a  black  man  who  carried 
between  his  brows  the  Kroo  tribal  mark  began  throwing 
green  tins  which  contained  some  liquid  distilled  by  witcE- 
craft.  And  thereupon  the  clinging  fires  of  hell  broke  out 
amongst  them,  and  burned  the  skin  on  their  bodies  till  they 
screamed  and  danced  in  their  frenzy  of  pain,  and  the  air 
was  rich  with  the  smell  of  their  cooking.  Even  Kwaka, 
who  led  them,  though  he  was  the  boldest  fighting  man  in 
all  King  Kallee's  armies,  showed  by  the  grayness  that  grew 
upon  his  face  that  he  that  day  learned  the  lesson  of  fear. 
And  when  presently  they  broke  and  fled  for  the  bush  (the 
flames,  be  it  understood,  still  sticking  to  them),  it  was 
Kwaka  who  led  that  disordered  retreat,  and  held  a  sleeve 
of  his  jelab  before  his  eyes  lest  the  white  man  might  bring 
further  witchcraft  to  bear,  which  would  make  his  face  a 
derision  for  the  houris  in  Paradise. 

"  My  Christian  Aunt ! "  said  Carter  up  on  the  factory 
veranda,  "  but  benzoline  is  filthy  stuff  to  fight  with.  The 


92  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

place  stinks  like  a  cookshop,  and  I  feel  like  a  beastly  Rus- 
sian anarchist.  Don't  throw  any  more  tins,  Trouble. 
We've  saved  our  bacon,  Laura,  I  do  believe,  but  I  hate 
being  unsportsmanlike.  It's  worse  than  netting  your  neigh- 
bor's grouse  moor,  this.  But  they  came  up  to  the  gun  too 
quick  for  me  to  stop  them  alone.  White-Man's-Trouble, 
if  you  throw  another  of  those  infernal  bombs,  I'll  slip  a 
shot  into  you." 

Laura  was  crouched  in  behind  the  mattress  casemate,  her 
face  tucked  away  into  the  crook  of  an  elbow,  and  her 
shoulders  heaving  with  sobs. 

"  Hullo,  old  lady,  what's  the  row  with  you  ?  You're  not 
hit  ?  Good  God,  don't  tell  me  you're  hit.  What  a  careless 
hound  I  am  to  let  you  get  out  of  cover.  I  could  have  sworn 
there  wasn't  a  shot  being  fired.  What  a  miserably  incom- 
petent brute  I  am  to  get  rattled  and  not  see  after  you  bet- 
ter." 

"  Oh,  George,  I'm  not  hit.  I  almost  wish  I  were.  That 
would  be  fairer/' 

Carter  stared.    "  What's  the  matter,  then  ?  " 

She  pulled  herself  together  with  an  effort.  "  I  suppose 
I  must  feel  very  much  as  you  do  about  the  matter,  only 
more  so.  You  see  I  lit  the  matches  for  each  bomb  Trouble 
held  out  to  me.  It  was  I  who  am  really  responsible " 

Carter  tackled  the  situation  with  ready  wit.  "  Now,  look 
here.  I'm  not  going  to  have  you  presuming  on  being  my 
sweetheart.  I  know  you'd  like  to  have  the  credit  of  routing 
the  enemy,  but  you're  not  going  to  have  it.  I  want  all  the 
kudos  I  can  get  in  that  line  for  business  purposes  my- 
self. I'm  going  to  point  out  in  my  report  to  Mr.  K.  that 
it  was  my  brilliant  genius  alone  that  rootled  out  that  drum 
of  benzoline,  and  put  it  to  a  new  and  unpleasant  use,  and 
that  any  idea  of  refusing  me  the  ten-pound  a  year  rise  in 
screw  that  I  ask  as  a  reward  would  be  bang  against  all 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  93 

O'Neill  and  Craven's  most  cherished  traditions  of  fairness. 
So  just  you  remember  that,  Miss  Slade,  and  don't  go  off 
and  brag  about  doing  one  single  thing  that  wasn't  ordered 
by  your  superior  officer  in  this  Service  (as  old  Swizzle- 
Stick  Smith  would  say),  and  that's  me." 

"  You're  a  dear,  good  boy." 

"  I  am,"  said  Carter  cheerfully.  "  I'm  rather  surprised 
people  don't  see  it  oftener.  You're  the  first  person  in 
Africa  who's  made  the  discovery  so  far.  Now  I  can't  have 
you  eating  the  bread  of  idleness  out  here  any  longer.  In- 
doors you  go,  and  tidy  up."  He  took  her  by  the  arm  and 
led  her  gently  to  the  living  room.  "  Hasn't  that  breeze 
made  hay  of  the  place  ?  Sorry  the  houseboys  have  left  this 
desirable  situation  without  warning,  and  I  can't  lend  you 
White-Man's-Trouble  just  now.  So  I  want  you  to  wade  in, 
if  you  please,  my  dear,  and  show  me  what  an  extremely 
domesticated  person  the  future  Mrs.  G-.  Carter  can  be  when 
she  tries.  '  We  wish  to  make  a  point,'  said  Mr.  K.  in  one 
of  his  typewritten  letters,  '  of  having  all  our  factories  neat 
and  comfortable.' " 

Laura  shivered.  "  If  I  were  to  marry  you,  I  wonder  what 
K.  would  say." 

"  Say  nothing.  We  should  absolutely  draw  the  line  at 
interference  there,  eh?  But  in  the  meanwhile  there  is  no 
harm  in  following  out  the  gentleman's  advice,  which  is 
invariably  sound,  on  the  other  points." 

"When  you  see  Mr.  K.  I'm  very  much  afraid  you'll 
change  your  mind  about  me." 

Carter  drew  the  girl  to  him  and  kissed  her  on  the  lips. 
"  Don't  you  be  jealous  of  K.,  sweetheart.  Mine's  only  a 
business  admiration  in  that  direction." 

"  At  present,"  she  persisted.    "  Wait  till  you  meet." 

"  When  we  meet,  I  shall  say,  '  Sir,  this  very  lovely  and 
desirable  young  person  here  is  my  wife,'  and  then  we  shall 


t4  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

go  on  to  commercial  topics.  There's  nothing  romantic 
about  the  boss.  If  you'd  studied  the  Epistles  of  K.  to  the 
Coasters  as  closely  as  I  have,  you'd  know  that  off  by  heart." 

Laura  still  shook  her  head.  "  I  love  you/'  she  said, 
"more  than  anything  else  in  life,  and  I  can  think  of  no 
greater  happiness  than  to  be  your  wife.  But  I  would  never 
marry  you  if  I  thought  you  could  repent  of  it  afterwards. 
You  can't  deny  that  you  are  wrapped  up  in  K.  You  must 
see  K.  before  you  marry  me,  George." 

"  If  K.  comes  along  before  the  parson,  well  and  good, 
you  shall  hare  your  own  way  of  it.  But  if  a  missionary 
of  the  right  complexion  (if  there  is  such  a  thing  down  here) 
casts  up  at  this  factory,  there'll  be  a  wedding  cake  put  on 
the  festive  board,  Miss  Slade,  and  you'll  be  the  bride  that'll 
cut  it.  Don't  you  try  and  wriggle  out  of  your  solemn 
promises  with  me.  Hullo,  what's  that  ?  " 

"  Thunder.    Is  the  tornado  coming  again  ?  " 

"No,  listen.  It  isn't  thunder.  It's  people  thumping 
monkey-skin  drums.  I've  made  dozens  of  those  tuneful 
instruments  for  the  curiosity  dealers  at  home,  so  I  know 
the  note.  Well,  you  get  on  with  your  dusting,  there's  a  nice 
girl,  and  I'll  go  out  and  have  a  cigarette." 

"  You  are  going — to " 

"  What,  clean  up  the  mess  outside  ?  No,  we'll  leave  that 
for  the  present.  Now,  don't  be  scared,  there's  a  sweetheart. 
But,  to  tell  the  truth,  those  drums  interest  me.  The  na- 
tives signal  through  the  bush  with  them,  you  know,  in  a 
sort  of  dot-dash-dot  style;  and  so  far  their  local  Morse 
alphabet  has  been  a  bit  beyond  me.  Perhaps  White-Man's- 
Trouble  may  be  able  to  decipher  it.  Now,  don't  you  try  and 
shirk  that  dusting  one  moment  longer." 

He  went  out  then  onto  the  veranda,  shutting  the  door  be- 
hind him,  and  questioned  the  Krooboy  sharply  about  the 
drummings.  Did  he  understand  them? 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  95 

"  Savvy  plenty/'  said  White-Man's-Trouble  gloomily. 
"  Dem  Okky-man's  drums/' 

"  Well,  I  didn't  suppose  it  was  a  Chinaman's,  you  patent 
idiot.  You  fit  for  understand  dem  tune  ?  " 

"  Savvy  plenty.  Dem  tune  say  Okky-men  fit  for  make 
custom." 

"  That  means  '  ceremony,'  I  suppose.  Now,  what  sort 
of  a  ceremony  will  suit  the  occasion?  Dirge  of  defeat  by 
the  ju-ju  men,  presumably,  and  then  they'll  crucify  some 
wretched  slave  so  that  his  spirit  can  go  into  the  Beyond 
and  arrange  to  have  the  luck  changed.  I  wish  Mr.  Smith 
were  here,  or  Slade.  No,  I'm  hanged  if  I  do,  though.  I've 
worked  this  thing  off  my  own  bat  so  far,  and  I'll  see  it  onto 
the  finish.  Dem  Okky-men  make  crucify  palaver?"  he 
asked,  and  translated  the  hard  word  by  standing  up  him- 
self spread-eagled  against  the  factory  wall. 

White-Man's-Trouble  nodded  a  dismal  assent.  "Then, 
by  an'  by  they  grow  plenty-too-much  more  brave,  an'  they 
come  back  one-time  an'  fight  some  more." 

"  Then  you  bet  your  woolly  whiskers  it  won't  do  for  us 
to  sit  quietly  taking  the  air  here.  Ju-ju's  the  correct  card 
to  play  in  this  country  anyway." 

The  Krooboy  shivered.  "  Oh,  Carter,  I  no  fit  for  touch 
ju-ju." 

"  Well,  I  am.  With  thought  and  care,  I  believe  I  should 
develop  into  a  very  good  ju-ju  practitioner.  Besides,  the 
subject  fascinates  me.  No  white  men  seem  to  know  any- 
thing very  definite  about  it,  above  the  fact  that  it  is  beyond 
their  comprehension,  and  it  would  be  rather  fine,  if  the 
unlikely  happened,  and  one  chanced  to  survive,  to  be 
known  as  the  one  authority  on  West  African  magic." 

"  Oh,  Carter,  if  you  meddle  with  dem  ju-ju  palaver  you 
lib  for  die  plenty  soon.  If  you  walk  in  bush,  tree  fall  on 


96  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

you;  if  you  ride  in  canoe,  arrow  jump  on  you;  if  you  chop,* 
dem  chop  he  fill  with  powdered  glass,  and  presently  you 
lib  for  die  of  tear-tear-belly.  Oh,  Carter,  you  lib  for  Coast 
now  one  year ;  I  lib  for  Coast  all  my  life ;  I  savvy  plenty ; 
you  alle-same  damfool." 

"My  dear  Trouble,  I've  admitted  already  that  I  know 
meddling  with  ju-ju  isn't  altogether  an  insurance  proposi- 
tion. Much  obliged  to  you  for  the  fresh  warning  all  the 
same.  But  I'm  afraid  your  constitutional  nervousness 
rather  clouds  that  massive  brain  of  yours  at  times,  or 
you'd  see  that  Smooth  River  factory  and  its  three  occupants 
are  in  the  devil  of  a  fix  just  now.  You  say  the  Okky-men 
when  they've  rubbed  up  their  courage  will  presently  re- 
turn; and  I  don't  dispute  your  reading  of  the  omens.  If 
they  do  come,  we  can't  shoot  them  off,  and  that's  a  certain 
thing.  As  I'm  sure  Mr.  Smith  would  say,  it's  a  case  of 
Aut  ju-ju  aut  nullus,  and  to  follow  his  rather  objectionable 
knack  of  translating  for  a  man  who  happened  to  have 
been  at  a  different  school  to  his  own,  that  means  we've 
either  got  to  play  the  ju-ju  card  or  be  scuppered.  White- 
Man's-Trouble,  you  are  hereby  made  conjurer's  confed- 
erate." 

"I  no  fit." 

"  Am  I  to  hurt  your  feelings  with  this  piece  of  packing- 
case  lid  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Carter,  you  look  see.  There's  a  nail  in  him 
there." 

"  I  know  there's  a  nail  in  it.  The  occasion  demands  a 
nail,  and  I  picked  the  weapon  for  that  reason.  Now,  then, 
are  you  going  to  obey  orders,  or  will  you  take  a  first-class 
licking?" 

"  Oh,  Carter,  I  fit  for  do  what  you  say." 

*  In  West  Coast  English  to  chop  is  to  take  food.     Chop  is  food. 


KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  97 

"  Good.  You're  an  excellent  boy  when  you're  handled  the 
right  way.  Now  go  to  the  feteesh  and  bring  the  biggest 
coil  of  that  inch  lead  piping  you  can  stagger  under." 

Carter  himself  went  to  Slade's  room  and  brought  from 
there  one  of  those  crude  carved  wooden  figures  which  the 
natives  make  and  the  traders  pick  up  as  curiosities.  At 
home  they  are  sold  for  stiff  prices  as  the  gods  of  the 
heathen ;  but  the  negroes  that  make  them  are  not  idolaters, 
and  what  they  exactly  are  for  the  present  writer  knoweth 
not,  save  only  that  they  are  not  articles  of  worship.  Lo- 
cally they  come  under  that  all-embracing  term  ju-ju,  which 
includes  so  much  and  explains  so  little. 

Carter  found  a  brace  and  bit — an  inch  twist  bit,  which 
for  a  wonder  was  in  a  calabash  of  yellow  palm  oil,  and  so 
not  rusty — and  he  worked  on  these  carved  men  till  the  sweat 
ran  from  him.  Laura  came  out  and  told  him  that  he  was 
inviting  an  attack  of  fever,  which  was  obvious,  since  by 
then  it  was  high  noon,  and  violent  exertion  for  a  white 
man  with  the  thermometer  above  par  always  has  to  be  paid 
for  on  the  Coast.  But  he  drove  her  back  again  into  the 
house  and  out  of  the  heat  with  a  volley  of  chaff,  and  went 
gaspingly  on  with  his  tremendous  work. 

The  mouths  of  the  figures  were  wide,  but  with  knife 
and  drill  he  splayed  them  wider,  but  was  careful  always 
not  to  distort  them  beyond  the  canons  of  local  art;  and 
in  a  couple  of  hours'  time  he  was  ready  for  White-Man's- 
Trouble  and  the  heavy  coils  of  lead  piping. 

"  Regard,"  he  said,  "  0  thou  assistant  to  the  great  white 
ju-ju  man.  We  will  place  one  of  these  graven  images  op- 
posite the  entrance  of  each  road  which  comes  from  the 
bush  into  this  factory  clearing.  We'll  hoist  it  up  onto 
a  green  gin  box,  so,  and  give  it  a  bit  more  height  and  dig- 
nity. And  we'll  add  a  necklace  of  these  green  cigarette 
tins,  which  have  already  advertised  themselves  into  an  ugly 


98  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

notoriety.  Then,  into  this  hole  you  see  in  the  back  of 
each  image,  we  will  fit  an  end  of  lead  piping,  and  as  the 
holes  are  tapered,  the  unions  will  make  themselves  good. 
Then,  0  helper  of  dark  schemes,  we'll  pay  out  the  coil,  as 
far  as  possible  in  swamp  where  it  will  sink  out  of  sight, 
and  bring  all  the  ends  into  the  house  here.  Any  piping 
that  shows,  you  must  throw  earth  over.  Savvy  ?  And  the 
inside  ends  we'll  splay  out  with  this  hardwood  cone  that 
I've  made,  till  a  man  can  get  his  mouth  well  into  them 
and  shout  down  the  tube  comfortably.  I'm  sure  you  catch 
the  idea  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Carter,  I  plenty-too-much  afraid.  Presently  I  lib 
for  die." 

"  Not  you.  If  I  see  any  signs  of  your  starting  to  fade 
away,  I'll  whack  you  into  life  again  with  a  piece  of  board 
with  two  nails  in  it.  Wherefore,  0  feared  of  the  uniniti- 
ated, buck  up,  and  get  a  shovel,  and  cover  that  lead  out 
of  sight  where  it  shows.  Afterwards  I'll  show  you  the 
working  of  that  early  British  contrivance,  an  office  speak- 
ing-tube. That  is,  if  we  have  time  for  a  rehearsal,  but  by 
the  extra  big  dot-dashing  of  those  monkey-skin  drums  just 
now,  it  rather  looks  as  if  we  shall  have  the  next  act  of  this 
play  crowding  down  on  us  without  much  more  interval." 

The  burned  warriors  had  not,  it  appeared,  retreated  very- 
far.  Their  spiritual  advisers,  the  ju-ju  men,  had  by  King 
Kallee's  orders  been  waiting  not  very  far  away  down  the 
several  bush  roads ;  and  when  presently  fugitives  began  to 
come  trotting  in  through  the  steamy  forest  shades,  these 
ecclesiastics  rallied  them,  and  when  enough  were  collected, 
they  commenced  a  "custom"  for  the  renewal  of  the  sol- 
dier's bravery. 

Savage  superstitions,  savage  terrors,  savage  thrill  at  the 
raw  smell  of  blood  were  all  worked  upon  with  a  high 


KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  99 

dexterity.  King  Kallee  had  made  a  fine  art  of  these  in- 
citements; he  had  gained  a  throne  by  their  practice,  and 
had  handed  them  on  to  chosen  ministers,  who  practised  the 
cult  of  ju-ju  with  a  single  eye  to  advancing  the  interests 
of  their  king. 

The  black  soldiers  were  wearily  tired,  and  many  of  them 
carried  wounds.  They  listened  at  first  with  a  sullen  torpor. 
They  heard  without  interest  that  the  white  man's  bullets 
were  non-consecrate,  and  therefore  the  wounds  they  made 
would  soon  heal.  They  learned,  with  a  little  thrill  of  won- 
der, that  the  green  tins  which  poured  burning  flame  were 
not  true  ju-ju,  since  the  King  of  Kallee's  ju-ju  men  de- 
clared them  unorthodox.  And  by  degrees  their  dull  nerves 
were  worked  up  till  at  the  proper  moment  sacrifice  was 
made,  and  the  screams  and  smells  of  the  victim  maddened 
them.  Even  the  Hausa  officers,  who  were  Moslem,  and 
therefore  contemptuous  disbelievers  in  all  pagan  ceremony, 
were  stirred  up  almost  equally  with  their  men,  and  when 
as  a  final  exhortation  they  were  bidden  to  return  once 
more  to  the  factory,  and  bring  the  red  head  and  the  white 
girl  as  presents  for  the  King,  they  forgot  their  qualms  and 
their  burns,  and  led  on  with  a  new,  fierce  courage. 

But  whether  the  African  be  savage  bushman  or  cultivated 
Moslem  gentleman,  superstition  is  part  of  the  very  marrow 
in  his  backbone.  These  men  had  felt  the  bullets,  they  had 
felt  the  infernal  burnings  of  the  benzoline,  but  they  were 
wound  up  now  to  a  pitch  above  dreading  either.  Orders 
were  given  to  concentrate  in  the  edge  of  the  bush,  as  near 
to  the  clearing  as  they  could  get  without  being  sighted  from 
the  factory,  and  then  when  all  was  ready  the  monkey-skin 
drums  would  beat  the  charge. 

The  first  comers  peered  through  the  outer  fringe  of  the 
cover,  and  saw  the  clearing  desolate,  and  the  factory  build- 
ings to  all  appearance  tenantless.  The  dead  that  they  had 


100  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

left  in  their  hurried  retreat  still  lay  where  they  had 
dropped,  and  glared  up  glassy  stares  at  the  outrageous  sun. 
But  with  eyes  keen  to  pick  up  any  hint  at  ju-ju  charm, 
the  gaze  of  all  this  vanguard  fell  on  five  little  wooden 
mannikins  set  opposite  the  points  where  the  several  bush 
roads  cut  into  the  open. 

There  was  nothing  new  ahout  the  mannikins  themselves. 
They  were  merely  the  things  that  their  own  uncles  and 
their  grandfathers  carved  for  a  purpose  which  they  them- 
selves knew  better  than  did  that  tricky  white  man  with  the 
red  head  who  had  doubtless  put  them  there.  But  then 
each  of  these  mannikins  was  perched  on  a  pedestal  made 
of  one  or  more  green  gin  cases,  and  that  in  itself  looked 
suspicious — or,  in  other  words,  smacked  of  ju-ju.  And, 
moreover,  each  was  garlanded  with  those  infernal  green 
cylinders  which  they  had  just  been  informed  officially  were 
in  truth  not  orthodox  ju-ju,  but  which  they  knew  from  their 
own  painful  experience  could,  upon  occasion,  vomit  forth 
the  most  horrible  flames. 

They  crouched  in  the  edge  of  the  cover  once  more  thor- 
oughly shaken,  and  it  only  required  the  final  portent  to 
fray  their  courage  utterly. 

In  the  factory,  tucked  snugly  out  of  sight  in  the  mess- 
room,  Laura  Slade,  Carter  and  White-Man's  Trouble  lay 
stretched  out  wearily  upon  the  floor.  A  length  of  match 
boarding  had  been  stripped  away  from  the  wall,  and  only 
a  paling  of  vertical  bamboos  stood  between  them  and  the 
external  world. 

It  was  the  code  message  of  the  monkey-skin  drums,  as 
read  by  White-ManVTrouble,  that  first  gave  them  the  news 
that  the  Okky-men  had  rewound  up  their  courage  and  were 
returning  once  more  to  the  attack;  and  so  they  promptly 
retired  out  of  sight.  Guns  and  defenders  would  have  been 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  101 

a  reassuring  touch  to  the  enemy,  who  had  seen  such  things 
before.  But  for  them  to  find  no  guns,  and  no  human  be- 
ings in  view,  would  accentuate  the  effect  of  the  graven  im- 
ages which  gazed  woodenly  upon  them  from  the  green 
gin-box  pedestals. 

For  long  enough  they  lay  there  in  the  sickly  heat,  staring 
out  over  the  litter  of  the  morning's  battlefield,  which 
danced  up  and  down  in  the  shimmering  sunlight.  The 
factory  lizards  came  out  in  full  numbers  for  their  daily 
sun-baths,  and  most  of  the  flies  of  Africa  seemed  to  be  con- 
gregated in  the  clearing. 

Laura  caught  the  first  note  of  invasion.  "  Do  you  see," 
she  asked,  "  those  two  swallow-tailed  butterflies  flittering 
about  by  that  big  silk  cotton-wood  that  lost  his  top  in  the 
tornado?  They  were  feeding  contentedly  enough  on  that 
stuff  like  meadow-sweet,  but  someone  or  something  dis- 
turbed them,  and  they  flew  up.  If  you  notice,  they  dare 
not  go  back,  so  that  rather  hints  that  the  someone  is  still 
hidden  in  the  meadow-sweet." 

"  Which  said  clump,"  observed  Carter,  "  is  just  two  yards 
off  the  graven  image  which  commands  bush  road  number 
three.  Oh,  assistant  conjurer,  canst  thou  swear  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Carter,"  said  the  Krooboy  with  simple  dignity,  "  I 
no  bush-boy.  I  speak  English.  I  learn  him  on  steamah. 
I  work  up  to  position  of  stand-by-at-crane  boy  before  I 
lib  for  come  ashore  to  work  at  factory.  Ah,  Carter,  I  savvy 
swear-palaver  plenty-much-too-good.  You  fit  for  hear 
me?" 

"  Not  for  one  instant.  I  want  you  to  make  all  your  re- 
marks in  Kroo,  or  preferably  Okky,  if  you  aren't  too  rat- 
tled to  remember  any  of  that  fashionable  tongue.  Here, 
put  your  sweet  lips  to  the  tube,  and  just  say  in  the  thickest 
language  you  can  think  of  '  Get  away  back  to  Okky  City, 
you  bushmen.  If  you  hesitate,  your  noses  shall  drop  off, 


102  KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

and  your  great  fat  lips  shall  follow,  and  red  ants  shall 
spring  up  out  of  the  earth  to  eat  them  whilst  you  wait.' 
Savvy  the  idea?" 

"  Savvy  plenty,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble,  and  rattled 
venom  into  the  tube  with  a  savage  gusto. 

The  result  was  sufficiently  surprising.  Spear-heads  and 
gun-barrels  bristled  suddenly  upwards  from  the  clump  of 
meadow-sweet,  as  ambushed  Okky-men  scrambled  to  their 
feet.  For  a  full  two  minutes  they  stood  there  listening  to 
the  abuse  which  they  heard  pouring  from  the  lips  of  the 
wooden  mannikin  close  beside  them,  with  eyes  goggling, 
and  mouths  gaping,  and  knees  chattering,  the  worst  scared 
blacks  in  all  the  Oil  Rivers. 

For  the  moment  they  were  mesmerized  by  fright.  But 
then  the  two  mannikins  which  were  nearest  on  either  side 
began  cackling  with  uncanny  laughter,  and  a  ju-ju  man 
who  was  with  them  recognized  an  art  higher  than  his  own, 
and  allowed  the  superstition  that  was  native  to  him  to  rub 
away  the  thin  veneer  of  his  education.  "  Let  us  begone 
from  here,"  he  moaned,  "  even  if  it  be  to  meet  the  curved 
execution  axe  of  King  Kallee  in  Okky  City.  Better  the 
sharp  edge  of  that,  yes,  better  even  lingering  days  on  the 
crucifixion  tree  than  the  neighborhood  of  these  devils. 
Wood  they  are  now,  I  do  believe.  But  they  can  talk  as 
no  thing  of  wood  ever  could  talk ;  and  presently  they  will 
come  to  life,  and  hurl  at  us  those  green  tins  of  liquid  fire 
with  which  they  are  garlanded.  If  there  are  any  that  wish 
to  see  more,  let  them  stay.  For  myself  I  return  to  Okky 
City,  even  if  it  means  impalement." 

The  other  wooden  mannikins  broke  out  into  words,  and 
immediately  the  bush  around  each  of  them  rippled  with 
men.  Carter,  whose  knowledge  of  the  native  was  growing, 
used  every  syllable  of  his  vocabulary  down  two  tubes  alter- 
nately. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  103 

Laura,  who  had  grown  up  bilingual,  commenced  at  first 
timidly.  But  the  desperate  peril  of  their  surroundings,  the 
excitement  of  battle,  the  thrill  of  seeing  men  run,  the  drop 
of  negro  blood  that  colored  her  veins,  were  all  circum- 
stances that  presently  whirled  her  into  a  resistless  torrent 
of  words.  Never  had  she  spoken  with  such  a  fluency; 
never  had  she  framed  such  sentences.  It  was  all  in  the 
Okky  tongue,  accurate,  biting,  glib,  telling.  Carter  broke 
off  from  his  own  halting  speech  to  listen.  He  could  not 
speak  the  language  yet  with  any"  great  ease,  but  he  could 
understand  almost  every  word.  He  chilled  as  he  listened 
to  her.  He  coughed  a  warning.  He  called  sharply  that 
she  should  stop.  But  that  drop  of  negro  blood  held  her  to 
her  speech.  The  Krooboy,  thoroughly  warmed  up  to  his 
work,  was  yelling  infamies  down  a  tube  at  the  other  end  of 
the  mess-room.  Laura,  with  eyes  glinting  and  hands 
clinched,  was  growing  almost  beside  herself  with  speech. 
.  .  .  Carter  gripped  her  arm  and  plucked  her  almost 
savagely  away. 

"  You  had  better  shut  up.  The  Okky  men  have  gone, 
minutes  ago,  and  I  do  not  think  you  know  what  you  are 
saying.  Laura,  do  you  hear  me  ?  " 

She  stared  at  him,  and  then  spoke  with  a  dry  throat. 
"  I  said  only  what  you  told  me.  It  was  to  save  our  lives. 
And  you — you  could  not  understand  what  I  said.  It  was 
Okky  talk;  you  surely  could  not  follow  it.  Why  do  you 
look  at  me  like  that  ?  George,  what  is  it  ?  "  She  laughed 
rather  wildly,  and  plucked  herself  away  from  him.  "  Oh, 
I  see.  Well,  I  warned  you  before  that  I  was  black,  and 
now  I  suppose  you  believe  me." 

He  returned  her  look  steadily  enough.  "  My  dear  girl, 
you've  gone  through  more  than  you  can  stand,  and  you've 
just  worn  yourself  to  rags.  I  never  quite  knew  what  hys- 
terics meant  before,  but  I  fancy  that  in  about  two  minutes 


104 

more  you  would  show  me.  Now  the  trouble's  over;  we've 
fixed  'em  tight  this  time,  and  you  needn't  worry  yourself 
any  more.  Just  you  go  to  your  room  and  lie  down  and 
sleep." 

"  Sleep !    You  think  I  could  sleep  ?  " 

"  Very  well,"  he  said  coolly,  "  then  Trouble  and  I  must 
wait  till  you  can.  But  please  understand,  my  sweetheart, 
that  until  you  have  put  in  a  four-hours'  spell  of  sleep,  and 
can  get  up  rested  to  stand  a  watch,  neither  the  boy  nor  I 
must  close  an  eye.  So  you  see  it's  up  to  you  to  arrange 
whether  we  shall  all  have  a  dose  of  overwork  or  not." 

She  came  to  him  and  put  her  slim  brown  hands  on  his 
shoulders  and  looked  him  in  the  face.  There  were  black 
rings  under  her  eyes,  and  her  cheeks  were  white  and  drawn, 
but  somehow  with  her  delicious  curves  she  appealed  to  him 
more  than  ever,  and  he  let  her  see  it  in  his  glance.  "  You 
still  call  me  by  that  name,"  she  said,  "you  still  call  me 
sweetheart  even  after  what  you  have  seen  and  heard  ?  " 

"  Of  course.  Don't  be  stupid.  A  man  doesn't  change 
towards  a  girl  just  because  she  happened  to  get  a  bit  ex- 
cited when  she  was  doing  her  best  to  save  his  life.  I'm  half 
sorry  now  I  stopped  you,  only  the  myrmidons  of  my  rival, 
his  Majesty  of  Okky,  had  run  away,  and  you  really  were 
rather  working  yourself  up."  He  drew  her  to  him  and 
kissed  her  on  the  forehead.  "  And  now  you  will  go  and 
turn  in,  won't  you,  like  a  good  girl  ?  " 

"I'll  do  anything  my  lord  wishes.  But  you  will  look 
after  yourself,  promise  me  ?  " 

"  Bather." 

"  Let  your  boy  get  you  a  meal.  You've  not  had  a  crumb 
all  day,  and  you  must  be  starving.  It  was  horribly  careless 
of  me  not  to  have  thought  of  it  before." 

"  That  is  rather  a  bright  idea.  Had  anything  yourself  ? 
No,  I  see  you  haven't.  Well,  we'll  sup,  Laura,  before  you're 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  105 

packed  off  to  bed.  It's  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  but 
we'll  call  it  supper.  Trouble  ?  " 

"Oh,  Carter?" 

"  We  fit  for  chop.    You  kill  two  tin,  one-time'/' 

"  Oh,  Carter,  three  tin.    Me  one,  Missy  two " 

Bang  went  a  gun,  as  it  seemed  to  their  jangled  nerves, 
close  at  their  elbows.  They  all  started  violently,  and  the 
girl  clutched  convulsively  at  Carter's  sleeve. 

"  Dem  Okky  cannon,"  wailed  the  Krooboy,  and  burrowed 
forthwith  into  the  casemate  of  bedding. 

"  Not  it,"  said  Carter.  "  It's  all  right,  Laura.  It's  a 
steamer's  mail  gun.  I  never  heard  the  roar  of  a  loaded 
cannon  till  this  morning,  but  once  heard,  you  can't  mistake 
it  for  blank  cartridge." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"  Absolutely.  I  jumped  when  the  thing  went  off,  but 
then  I  suppose  we're  all  a  bit  fagged.  Here,  Trouble,  you 
shirker,  get  dem  chop  one-time,  and  then  find  some  limes. 
We  shall  have  the  steamer  people  ashore  in  ten  minutes, 
and  when  they  hear  the  yarn  they'll  want  about  five  cock- 
tails apiece  to  congratulate  us  in.  Lord!  Laura,  but  I'd 
give  a  tooth  and  two  finger  nails  to  have  Mr.  K.  dropping 
in  on  us  during  the  next  hour  or  so  to  see  the  fine  way 
we've  saved  O'Neill  and  Craven's  factory  from  a  total  loss. 
I  believe  he'd  raise  my  screw  with  such  a  jump  that  you 
and  I  might  get  married  out  of  hand.  Let's  see,  what 
boat's  due?  I've  hardly  got  your  time-table  in  my  head; 
one  gets  rusty  at  Malla-Nulla." 

"  If  s  the  M'poso,  George.  She's  straight  out  from  home. 
Just  think,  you  may  really  have  K.  descending  on  you  in 
half  an  hour's  time." 

"  No  such  luck.  It  will  be  Cappie  Image-me-lad,  with 
his  green  umbrella  and  his  best  thirst,  and  that  hearty 
ruffian  Balgarnie,  who'll  rob  every  corpse  in  the  clearing  if 


106  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

he  thinks  he  can  collect  one  Aggry  bead  and  a  good  slave 
dagger.  By  Gad,  I  wonder  if  I  can  screw  some  money 
out  of  Balgarnie.  I  sent  at  least  eighty  sovereigns'  worth 
of  most  carefully  made  curios  home  with  him  last  time 
the  M'poso  tried  to  roll  herself  over  off  our  beach  at  Malla- 
Nulla." 

"  I  think/'  said  the  girl,  "  I'll  just  go  to  my  room  for 
a  minute." 

Carter  pointed  the  finger  of  derision  at  her.  "  0  van- 
ity," said  he.  "  You're  going  to  tidy  your  hair,  and  smarten 
your  frock  just  for  the  sake  of  old  Cappie  Image  and  the 
plump  Balgarnie.  By  the  way,  now  that  you  are  an  en- 
gaged young  woman,  are  you  going  to  let  those  genial  old 
ruffians  take  you  on  their  knees  and  kiss  you,  just  in  the 
old  sweet  way  ?  Of  course,  don't  mind  me  if  you'd  like  it 

80." 

"  Pouf !  "  said  Laura,  "  they've  both  known  me  ever  since 
I  was  a  baby,  but  I'll  be  as  distant  with  them  as  you  like 
if  you  feel  jealous,  sir." 

"  I  think  I'll  wash  off  some  of  the  battle  scars  myself," 
said  Carter.  "  One  looks  a  bit  melodramatic  in  this  filthy, 
smeary  mess.  Not  to  mention  uncomfortable.  I  suppose, 
by  the  way,  somebody  will  turn  up  to  pay  a  polite  call. 
They'll  judge  that  something's  wrong  when  they  see  that 
all  the  factory  boats  and  canoes  have  been  cleared  out  of 
the  creek." 

Even  White-Man's-Trouble  stole  palm  oil  and  attended 
to  his  toilette  in  honor  of  the  expected  visit,  and  it  was 
a  very  gleaming  and  oily  Krooboy  in  some  clean  (stolen) 
pyjama  trousers  of  Slade's  that  showed  Captain  Image,  and 
his  passenger,  and  purser  up  the  stair. 

Laura  and  Carter  were  there,  spruce  and  smart,  to  re- 
ceive them,  and  Laura  said,  "  Kate !  I  knew  you'd  come," 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER  107 

and  ran  forward  and  shook  the  passenger  by  the  hand. 
"  There,  you  see,  George/'  she  said  over  her  shoulder, 
"how  accurately  I  can  keep  a  secret." 

"  Hullo,  Carter,  me  lad !  "  said  Captain  Image.  "  Glad 
to  see  you  looking  so  fit.  You're  a  fine  advertisement  for 
those  pills  of  mine,  and  I'm  sure  you're  glad  now  you  kept 
away  from  old  Swizzle-Stick  Smith's  nostrums.  You  seem 
to  have  been  having  a  bit  of  a  scrap  round  the  factory  here. 
However,  we  will  hear  about  that,  and  have  your  tally  of 
the  cargo  you  want  to  ship  from  here  and  Malla-Nulla 
afterwards.  But  for  the  present  I  want  to  introduce  my 
passenger  and  your  boss,  Miss  O'Neill." 

Carter  swallowed  with  a  dry  throat.  "  Mr.  K.  O'Neill's 
sister  ?  " 

"  Miss  Kate  O'Neill,  who  is  head  of  O'Neill  and  Craven." 

Carter  blinked  tired  eyes,  and  saw  a  girl  of  three-and- 
twenty,  half  a  head  shorter  than  Laura  Slade,  dressed  as 
simply,  but  with  that  something  that  somehow  speaks  of 
Europe,  and  money,  and  taste.  Her  eye  was  brown  and  her 
hair  was  the  color  of  his  own — nearly.  No,  it  was  darker. 
She  was  holding  out  a  hand  to  him — a  neat,  plump  hand 
that  looked  white,  and  firm,  and  cool,  and  capable,  and 
which  somehow  or  other  he  found  in  his  own. 

"  Laura  calls  you  George,  I  notice,"  he  heard  her  saying. 

"  Yes,  of  course  she  would.  We  are  engaged,  you 
know." 

He  felt  his  hand  dropped  with  suddenness,  and  up  till 
then  he  had  never  known  how  thoroughly  objectionable  a 
laugh  could  be  when  it  came  from  the  lips  of  Mr.  Bal- 
garnie.  Everything  swam  before  him,  and  he  lurched 
against  the  messroom  wall.  But  with  an  effort  he  pulled 
himself  together.  "  Miss  Slade  and  I  are  engaged.  We 
are  to  be  married  as  soon  as  we  can  afford  it.  When  you 


108  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER 

look  round,  and  see  how  we've  saved  the  factory  from  the 
Okky-men,  we  hope  you'll  raise  my  salary." 

"Yes,  I  think  I  can  promise  to  do  that,"  said  Kate 
O'Neill.  "  I  had  my  eyes  open  when  I  came  across  the 
clearing.  But  do  you  think  you  are  wise  to  marry  ?  " 

"Ha,  ha,  Carter,  old  fellow,"  laughed  little  Captain 
Image,  "  got  you  there !  Get  dollars  first.  Find  connubial 
bliss  later." 

"  But,"  continued  Miss  O'Neill,  "  you  and  I  and  Laura 
will  talk  over  that  later  when  we  are  alone." 

Captain  Image  felt  that  he  cleared  away  an  awkward 
situation  with  all  the  savoir  f aire  of  a  shipmaster.  "  Well, 
Carter,  me  lad,"  said  he,  "we  know  you've  had  a  lot  of 
lessons  from  old  Swizzle-Stick  Smith,  but  what  about  a 
cocktail?  My  Christian  Aunt,  look  out,  Balgarnie,  there's 
Laura  fainting." 

Carter  stared  at  them  dully  but  did  not  try  to  help. 
"  My  God,"  he  muttered,  "  to  think  I  never  guessed  that 
K.  could  stand  for  Kate." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

PRESENTS  THE  HEAD  OF  THE  FIRM 

"  I  DON'T  care  what  you  say,  Purser,  me  lad,"  Captain 
Image  repeated,  "  but  I  call  Miss  O'Neill  pretty." 

"  Well,"  admitted  Mr.  Balgarnie,  who  prided  himself  on 
being  a  bit  of  a  judge,  "  she  may  be  that  as  well,  but  I  still 
stick  to  it  that  her  face  is  what  I  call  strong." 

"  I  hate  the  word  '  strong/  When  a  she-missionary  is 
too  homely  looking  to  be  anything  else,  she  prides  herself 
on  wearing  a  strong  face." 

"  No,  sir.  '  Intense '  for  lady  missionary,"  Mr.  Balgarnie 
Corrected. 

"  Strong,"  snapped  his  superior  officer.  Captain  Image 
was  of  Welsh  extraction  and  disliked  contradiction. 

The  purser  shifted  his  ground.  "  Well,  at  any  rate,  sir, 
you'll  own  she's  mighty  standoffish.  I  used  to  call  good  old 
Godfrey  O'Neill,  Godfrey,  and  therefore  naturally  I  called 
his  daughter  Kate,  and  told  her  why.  She  didn't  seem  to 
hear  me." 

"  She  wasn't  Godfrey's  daughter,  anyway.  Godfrey 
never  married,  but  I  believe  he'd  nieces.  Probably  Miss 
Kate  is  one  of  them.  The  old  man  must  have  left  her 
the  business.  Thing  that  amazes  me  is  the  way  she's  taken 
her  grip  of  the  concern,  and  made  it  hum." 

"  And  kept  it  dark  even  in  Liverpool  that  she  was  a 
woman.  That  old  head  clerk  of  hers,  that  people  thought 
was  the  manager,  must  be  a  rare  close-lipped  one." 

"  He  is,  blight  him !  "  said  Captain  Image  with  emphasis. 


110  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEB 

"  I  called  in  there  two  or  three  times  after  I'd  got  some 
of  those  please-buck-up  letters  from  O'Neill  and  Craven, 
that  I  didn't  care  about,  and  the  cauliflower-headed  old 
humbug  clean  took  me  in.  He  was  Mr.  Crewdson,  to  be 
sure;  no,  he  was  not  Mr.  K.  O'Neill;  no,  I  couldn't  see 
Mr.  K.  just  then ;  no,  he  couldn't  make  an  appointment  for 
me  with  the  gentleman ;  anything  I  wanted  he  would  attend 
to  personally.  If  I  re-read  the  letters  he  was  sure  I  should 
find  that  they  were  not  unreasonable,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  would  put  me  in  the  way  of  earning  extra  commission 
on  cargo  for  myself.  So  it  ended  in  my  being  civil  to  him, 
and  he  was  really  nothing  more  than  a  clerk.  You  can 
just  picture  to  yourself,  Purser,  what  I  felt  when  I  found 
out  that  I'd  been  civil  to  a  clerk  by  mistake." 

"  It  was  pretty  hard  lines,  sir." 

"  Of  course  a  West  African  merchant's  business  is  a  rum 
contract  for  a  young  girl  to  catch  hold  of,  and  I  don't  say 
Miss  Kate  was  wrong  in  keeping  in  the  background  to  start 
with.  In  fact  I'll  own  up  straight  that  she  was  right,  and 
the  proof's  plain  in  the  way  that  firm's  come  back  to  life. 
Why,  Purser,  I'll  bet  you  a  bottle  of  Eno  that  O'Neill  and 
Craven  are  doing  just  double  the  turn-over  now  they  did 
twelve  months  ago." 

"  You'll  know  best  about  that,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Balgarnie 
with  a  sigh,  as  he  remembered  that  only  Captain  Image 
touched  commission  on  the  cargo  which  the  M'poso  col- 
lected on  the  Coast.  "  But  I  will  own  up  that  she  has  got 
the  knack  of  making  all  the  smarter  men  in  the  firm  both 
on  the  Coast  and  at  Liverpool  keen  on  her  when  they 
thought  she  was  a  man. '  Of  course  it  was  a  bit  unlikely 
that  the  old-timer  palm-oil  ruffians  like  Swizzle-Stick 
Smith  and  Owe-it-Slade  would  take  to  new  ways  that 
meant  more  work,  all  at  once,  though  for  that  matter  I'll 
bet  Slade  put  off  making  up  his  mind  for  so  long  as  to 


Ill 

whether  he  liked  hustling  or  he  didn't,  that  finally  he 
dropped  into  the  new  ways  without  knowing  it." 

"  Slade's  gone  off  up-country  to  find  the  firm  a  rubber 
property,  Purser,  me  lad.  Laura  told  me  about  it  last 
night.  She  hasn't  heard  of  him  once  since  he  pulled  out 
of  Smooth  Eiver,  and  she's  very  anxious  about  him.  I  hope 
none  of  those  up-country  bushmen  have  chopped  Slade.  I 
should  be  sorry  to  lose  that  man.  He  owes  me  a  matter 
of  three  sovereigns,  and  that  old  Holland  gun  of  mine 
that  he  borrowed  for  half  an  hour  eighteen  months  ago 
has  gone  up-country  with  him.  I  believe  he's  in  the  ribs 
of  the  fo'c'sle  shop,  too,  for  the  thick  end  of  a  fiver/' 

"  Four-seventeen-nine.  I've  given  both  Chips  and  the 
bo's'n  a  rare  dressing  down  about  it.  They've  no  business 
to  let  anyone  with  Slade's  reputation  have  as  much  tick  as 
that.  The  bo's'n's  new  to  the  Coast — our  bo's'ns  always  do 
seem  to  die,  sir — but  old  Chips  ought  to  know  that's  no 
way  to  run  a  fo'c'sle  shop.  They  can  chuck  away  their  own. 
money  as  they  choose,  but  I  told  them  both  plainly  that  I 
can't  afford  to  drop  my  share  in  a  sum  like  that." 

"Nor  can  I,"  said  the  other  sleeping  partner.  "You 
can  let  both  Chips  and  the  bo's'n  understand  that  unless 
I  see  a  good  round  sum  in  hard  cash  as  my  share  of  profits 
when  we  get  back  to  Liverpool,  they  don't  ride  in  the  old 
M'poso  next  trip.  They  can  put  their  book  debts  where 
the  monkey  put  the  nuts.  They  don't  pay  me  out  with 
those.  No,  by  Crumbs !  " 

"  Miss  Kate,  by  the  way,  was  mighty  anxious  to  know 
what  profits  there  were  in  fo'c'sle  shops.  Of  course  I  said 
I'd  heard  of  them  on  other  boats,  but  we'd  never  allow  such 
a  thing  on  the  M'poso" 

"  Urn,"  said  Captain  Image  thoughtfully,  "  that  tale's  all 
right  for  most  passengers,  but  I  don't  think  I'd  have  risked 
it  with  Miss  Kate.  She  strikes  me  as  being  a  young  woman 


112  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

who  likes  to  hear  one's  opinion  on  things,  but  generally 
has  her  own  information  on  the  matter  already  cut  and 
packed  beforehand.  I  told  her  last  night  how  sorry  I  was 
to  see  all  that  cargo  waiting  at  the  factory  with  no  Kroo- 
boys  to  work  it  out  of  their  creek  to  the  steamboat.  By 
Crumbs!  Balgarnie,  me  lad,  she'd  nipped  off  back  to  the 
M'poso  here,  and  had  hired  our  own  blessed  deck  passen- 
ger boys  for  the  job  before  you  could  say  'gin.'  You 
know  what  an  independent  lot  they  are,  going  home  with 
money  in  their  pockets.  I  bet  you  a  box  of  oranges  you 
couldn't  name  me  two  white  men  on  the  Coast  who  could 
have  persuaded  them.  But  she  did  it,  one-time,  and  only 
paid  regular  wages,  too.  Dressed  for  dinner  in  the  evening 
when  she'd  finished,  just  as  if  she  was  merely  a  tripper 
going  home  from  the  Islands,  and  hadn't  an  object  in  life 
outside  trying  to  tickle  the  boys  with  her  looks.  I  tell 
you,  Miss  Kate's  a  very  remarkable  young  woman,  Bal- 
garnie,  me  lad,  and  if  she  doesn't  peg  out  here  on  the 
Coast,  or  go  broke  over  floating  a  rubber  swindle,  or  get 
married  and  chuck  it,  I  shall  feather  my  nest  very  nicely 
over  the  cargo  she  gets  shipped." 

"I  say,  Captain,  what's  between  her  and  Laura?  They 
seem  to  know  one  another  pretty  intimately." 

"  Met  in  Las  Palmas  when  they  were  kiddies.  Pass  me 
the  compasses  off  the  chart  table.  My  pipe's  jammed. 
Thank  you,  me  lad.  Owe-it-Slade  got  two  years'  tick  at 
that  convent  school  out  on  the  Telde  road  for  Laura,  and 
Miss  Kate  was  running  about  the  islands  a  good  deal  then 
with  old  Godfrey.  Godfrey  had  a  tomato  farm  out  past 
Santa  Brigida,  and  they  used  to  have  Laura  up  there  for 
all  her  holidays.  By  Crumbs,  Purser,  me  lad,  how  that 
little  girl's  shot  up.  It's  a  dashed  pity  she's  a  nigger." 

"  D'you  suppose  Carter  knows  it  ?  " 

"  If  he  doesn't  I  shan't  tell  him,  and  don't  you ;  for  two 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER  113 

reasons.  First,  there's  Miss  Kate  to  be  thought  of.  I 
watched  the  way  that  girl  eyed  him,  and  by  Crumbs,  I 
tell  you,  me  lad,  I  was  glad  he  was  booked.  She's  going  to 
stay  out  here  on  the  Coast  for  a  good  spell,  and  he'll  be 
close  and  handy,  and  somehow  I've  got  the  opinion  that 
red-headed  chap  is  just  the  sort  of  man  she'll  marry.  He's 
not  a  beauty,  but  he's  a  good,  tough,  wholesome  face  on 
him;  he's  a  lot  struck  on  her;  and  he's  a  gentleman.  I 
can  do  with  her  bossing;  she's  a  nice  way  of  wrapping  up 
her  pill  and  ramming  it  home  with  a  smile.  But  I'd  not 
like  to  see  a  red-haired  youngster  I  brought  out  here  as  a 
clerk  eighteen  months  ago,  head  of  the  O'Neill  and  Craven 
concern  and  expecting  me  to  knuckle  under.  I'd  do  it,  of 
course;  I'd  be  civil  to  old  Harry  himself,  me  lad,  if  he 
could  bring  cargo  to  the  M'poso;  but  I'll  not  deny  to  you 
it  would  stick  if  I  had  to  start  ladling  out  champagne  in 
this  chart  house  to  Carter,  and  sit  and  listen  whilst  he 
strutted  out  his  views  on  the  decay  of  British  influence  in 
West  Africa." 

"It  would  be  pretty  tough,"  Mr.  Balgarnie  admitted. 
"  But  you  said  there  was  another  reason  you  wanted  him  to 
marry  Laura." 

"  Well,  I  do.  I  like  that  girl.  I  knew  her  when  I  first 
came  down  the  Coast  as  mate.  I  remember  the  first  time 
I  saw  her  as  if  it  was  yesterday.  I  was  standing  up  against 
the  tally  desk  beside  number  three  hatch,  ticking  off  the 
cargo  list  as  they  hove  stuff  up  and  dropped  it  in  the  surf 
boats.  It  was  on  the  old  Fernando  Po,  that  beat  her  bot- 
tom out  afterwards  when  Williams  tried  to  drive  her  over 
Monk  bar  at  half  ebb.  There  was  a  case  marked  with 
double-diamond  that  was  O'Neill  and  Craven's  consigning 
all  right,  but  with  no  name  of  factory.  I  knew  old  Swizzle- 
Stick  Smith  and  Malla-Nulla  well  enough  already,  and  I 
didn't  know  Slade,  and  so  naturally  I  thought  Smith 


114  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

should  have  it,  and  ordered  the  case  back  again  into  the 
hold.  But  just  then  up  came  a  little  nipper  of  about  eight 
or  ten  years  old,  as  self-possessed  as  you  like,  and  says, 
*  Are  you  Mr.  Image  ?  '  '  That's  me/  says  I.  '  What's  the 
message  ? '  '  Oh,  no  message/  says  she,  '  only  Daddy  says 
that  if  I  can  find  you  and  stand  by  your  heels  and  not 
bother  I  may  stay  aboard,  but  if  not  I'm  to  go  ashore  by 
the  next  boat  and  get  on  with  my  lessons.'  Well,  it  didn't 
take  much  seeing  through  what  was  meant  there." 

"No,  sir/'  said  Mr.  Balgarnie  heartily.  "By  all  ac- 
counts old  Cappie  Williams  was  the  hardest  case  they  ever 
knew  even  on  the  West  Coast,  and  that's  saying  a  lot.  I 
only  knew  him  for  a  year,  and  I  wasn't  particular  in  those 
days,  but  he  was  more  than  even  I  could  stand." 

"  He  was  the  limit.  Well,  me  lad,  that  was  the  first  time 
I  saw  Laura,  and  she  stood  beside  me  half  the  day  at  the 
tally  desk  there,  and  thanked  me  for  the  entertainment 
when  Slade  sent  off  a  boy  to  take  her  ashore.  She  gave  me 
a  kiss  when  she  turned  to  go  down  the  side — well,  you  see, 
I've — I've  never  quite  forgotten  that  kiss,  Balgarnie,  me 
lad." 

"  I  know,  skipper,"  said  Mr.  Balgarnie  rather  thickly. 
"  A  kid  once  kissed  me,  of  her  own  blessed  accord,  too,  like 
that.  It  sort  of  burnt  in.  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  for  in- 
terrupting." 

"Not  at  all,  me  lad.  Here  you,  steward.  Hi,  Brass- 
Pan." 

A  Krooboy  ran  up. 

"We  fit  for  two  cocktail,  plenty-long  ones.  Well,  as 
I  was  saying,  Balgarnie,  me  lad,  I've  always  had  a  bit  of 
soft  place  for  Laura,  though  I  suppose  she  rightly  is  snuff 
and  butter,  by  Crumbs  you'd  never  guess  it  from  her  looks 
unless  you  went  over  her  with  a  lens,  and  I'd  just  feel  all 
broken  up  if  she  was  to  go  the  way  that  lot  usujly  do  go. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  115 

So  if  this  young  Carter,  who  seems  a  nice  clean-run  sort  of 
lad,  will  marry  her  with  a  ring,  I'm  going  to  weigh  in  with 
at  least  a  best  silver-plate  teapot  for  a  wedding  present." 

"  You  can  put  me  down  for  the  ditto  sugar  and  cream," 
said  the  purser  with  emotion.  "  It  was  a  kiddie  just  like 
Laura  I  was  fond  of  myself.  Only — only —  Well,  Skip- 
per, I  suppose  a  good  many  of  us  are  blackguards  down 
here  on  the  Coast.  Why  the  sulphur  doesn't  your  boy 
bring  those  cocktails  ?  " 

But  at  this  point  Captain  Image  broke  off  the  conversa- 
tion. "  By  Crumbs  !  "  said  he,  "  here's  Miss  Kate."  And 
then  he  did  a  thing  that  made  Mr.  Balgarnie  whistle  with 
sheer  surprise.  He  went  down  the  ladder  to  help  his  pas- 
senger on  board. 

"  Now,  if  I  had  done  that,"  the  Purser  mused  to  him- 
self, "  it  would  have  meant  a  lot.  But  my  Whiskers !  I 
never  thought  I  should  live  to  see  old  Cappie  Image  trot- 
ting down  onto  the  front  doorsteps  to  receive  a  mere  female 
passenger.  The  Old  Man  must  see  enough  solid  dollars  in 
that  girl  to  buy  himself  that  hen  farm  outside  Cardiff  he 
hopes  to  retire  upon." 

Captain  Image  stood  on  the  grating  at  the  foot  of  the 
ladder  and  waved  his  panama  in  respectful  salutation.  The 
beer-colored  river  swirled  along  the  steamer's  rusty  flank  a 
foot  beneath  him,  and  the  pungent  smell  of  crushed  mari- 
golds which  it  carried  made  him  cough.  The  sun  shim- 
mered exactly  overhead  in  a  sky  of  the  most  extravagant 
blue,  and  the  greenery  which  fenced  in  the  slimy  mud 
banks  hung  in  the  breathless  heat  without  so  much  as  a 
twitter. 

Miss  Kate  O'Neill  was  seated  in  a  Madeira  chair  which 
stood  on  the  floor  of  a  big  green  surf  boat,  and  the  gleam- 
ing Krooboys  perched  on  the  gunwales  paddled  with  more 
than  their  usual  industry.  The  headman,  who  straddled 


116  KATE    MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

at  the  steering  oar  in  the  stern,  wore  a  tail-coat  of  an  ex- 
tremely sporting  cut  and  pattern  and  a  woven  grass  skull- 
cap in  honor  of  the  occasion.  And  all  this  pomp  and  cir- 
cumstance was  uninvited.  But  somehow  people  had  the 
knack  of  offering  special  service  and  deference  to  Miss 
O'Neill. 

The  only  other  woman  on  the  M'poso,  the  austere  wife 
of  a  Benin  trader,  looked  over  the  steamer's  rail  in  gloomy 
disapproval.  These  were  no  modes  for  Coast  wear.  A  bil- 
lowy grass-green  muslin  dress  that  no  Krooboy  laundry- 
man  could  wash  twice  without  spoiling ;  neat,  narrow  pipe- 
clayed shoes  with  no  thickness  of  sole,  and  ridiculous  heels ; 
a  pale  green  felt  hat,  actually  insulted  by  a  feather  in  its 
band;  and  final  absurdity  of  all,  a  parasol,  a  flimsy  thing 
of  silk,  and  ribbon,  and  effervescent  chiifon,  which  would 
be  absolutely  ruined  by  a  splash  of  rain,  instead  of  the  big 
sensible  white  cotton  affair,  with  the  dark  green  lining, 
which  all  ordinary  people  know  is  the  standard  wear  on 
that  torrid  Coast. 

"  Faugh,"  said  the  trader's  wife,  "  and  Captain  Image 
says  she's  one  of  the  smartest  business  women  in  the  world 
to-day,  and  that  fat,  greedy  purser  would  propose  to  her 
in  the  next  five  minutes  if  he  thought  he'd  a  cat's  chance 
of  being  accepted.  They  think  her  good-looking,  too,  I'll 
be  bound,  just  because  she  wears  those  unsuitable  clothes, 
and  has  pink  color  in  her  cheeks.  Well,  the  clothes  will  be 
whisps  of  rag  by  this  day  week  and" — the  poor  woman 
sighed  here — "  the  Coast  will  get  the  color  and  the  plump- 
ness out  of  her  face,  and  make  her  as  lean  and  yellow  as 
the  rest  of  us  in  a  month." 

"  You're  a  good,  kind  man,"  Miss  O'Neill  was  saying  to 
a  very  smiling  Captain  Image,  "  and  I  know  I  did  tell  the 
bedroom  steward  to  have  my  big  trunks  got  up  on  deck; 
but,  you  see,  I'm  a  woman,  and  therefore  it's  my  preroga- 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  117 

tive  to  be  able  to  change  my  mind  without  being  openly 
abused  for  it.  So  I  want  you,  please,  to  be  very  nice  and 
let  me  stay  on  the  M'poso  a  little  longer." 

"  Miss  Kate,  I  was  sure  you'd  find  that  what  I  said  was 
true,  and  that  Smooth  River  factory  was  no  place  for  a 
lady  like  you.  You  see  those  dead  niggers  are  fresh  now, 
but  when  the  sun  gets  on  'em — er — I  mean  there's  no  trade 
coming  into  this  section  of  the  Coast  just  now  till  that 
blessed  old  King  of  Okky  opens  the  roads  again,  and  he 
won't  do  that  yet  awhile  on  his  own  dirty  account,  and 
neither  you  nor  I  have  got  the  ju-ju  that  will  make  him. 
My  dear  Miss,  I'm  just  as  pleased  as  a  monkey  with  green 
— er — with  a  green  tail  to  hear  you're  going  to  take  the 
round  trip  home  with  me,  and  if  my  clean  collars  do  run 
out,  you  must  remember  that  we  all  wear  pan  jammers  when 
we're  south  of  the  Islands  and  the  trippers.  If  only  I'd 
thought  of  shipping  a  jack-wash  when  I  got  my  Krooboys 
at  Sarry  Leone.  Well,  one  can't  be  prepared  for  every- 
thing."' 

The  girl  laughed.  "  I  wouldn't  strain  the  supply  of  col- 
lars for  worlds..  I  only  want  you  to  take  me  two  days  on 
from  here  and  drop  me  at  this  factory  again  on  the  way 
back." 

The  tint  of  Captain  Image's  vermilion  face  deepened  to 
plum  color.  He  scented  irony,  and  his  touchy  Welsh  tem- 
per bubbled  up  into  view.  "  Miss,"  he  said,  "  when  I  pull 
my  anchors  out  of  Smooth  River  mud  in  ten  hours  from 
now,  I  go  out  on  the  flood  across  the  bar,  and  as  you  must 
know  I  walk  in  and  do  the  civil  in  Water  Street,  Liverpool, 
before  I  smell  the  stink  of  these  particular  mud  banks 
again." 

She  slipped  a  plump  firm  hand  on  his  white  drill  sleeve. 
"  Won't  you  ask  me  into  the  chart  house,  Captain,  and  send 
Brass-Pan  for  some  tea?  I'm  absolutely  dying  for  tea. 


118  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

And  you  can  have  a  cocktail.  I've  got  a  long  story  I  want 
to  tell  you.  There's  cargo  waiting  for  you,  Captain,  up  a 
creek  that  opens  off  Smooth  Eiver  which  you've  never  been 
up,  and  which  I  think  will  pretty  well  fill  the  M'poso  with- 
out your  troubling  to  call  anywhere  else." 

Captain  Image's  face  cooled  to  vermilion  again,  and 
puckered  into  a  smile  in  spite  of  himself.  He  even  went 
so  far  as  to  pat  the  fingers  that  rested  on  his  arm.  "  By 
Crumbs,  Miss,  I'd  ordered  them  to  boil  up  that  tea  when 
I  saw  you  shoot  out  of  the  factory  creek  in  your  surf  boat, 
and  till  you  reminded  me,  I'd  clean  forgotten  it.  And  here 
you've  been  standing  and  yarning  to  me  on  the  front  door 
step  all  the  time.  They'll  call  the  M'poso  a  dry  boat  with 
a  vengeance  if  this  tale  gets  about.  I  shall  be  chaffed  to 
death  over  it.  Come  up  on  top." 

Mr.  Balgarnie  saw  them  ascending  the  ladder,  and  rushed 
into  the  chart  house  and  pulled  down  three  photographs 
that  had  been  fastened  on  the  wall  with  drawing  pins  since 
Miss  Kate  O'Neill's  departure.  He  was  thumped  on  the 
back  by  his  grateful  skipper  who  caught  him  in  the  act  of 
pocketing  them. 

"  Balgarnie,  me  lad,"  said  Captain  Image,  "  you'll  have 
to  keep  that  hard  collar  of  yours  bent  for  two  days  longer. 
You'll  be  pleased  to  hear  that  Miss  Kate's  not  going  t» 
throw  us  over  yet.  Just  you  go  and  see  the  chief  steward 
and  the  cook  and  ask  them  what  they've  got  left  in  the 
refrigerator.  And  I  want  you  to  break  the  rule  of  the 
ship,  and  make  all  the  other  passengers  jealous,  and  dine 
at  my  table  in  honor  of  the  occasion.  Come  in,  Miss,  and 
please  take  the  settee.  You'll  find  this  cushion  soft  and 
free  from  mildew." 

Kate  smiled  gratefully  on  them  both.  "  What  dear,  good 
people  you  are.  And  I  made  sure  you  would  detest  me, 
Captain,  when  I  tell  you  I  want  you  to  change  from  your 
usual  routine." 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  119 

Captain  Image's  face  stiffened. 

"  Even  though  it  is  to  get  all  your  holds  full  of  cargo 
which  you  would  never  have  touched  if  it  had  not  been  for 
a  hint  that  just  came  to  me  an  hour  ago." 

"  We  carry  mails,  you  know/'  said  Image  doubtfully, 
"  and  there's  a  scheduled  time  for  call  at  the  various  points, 
and  a  bad  time  for  being  late.  Bad " 

"  But  cargo.    Let  me  suggest  to  you  again,  cargo  ?  " 

"  Well,  Miss  Kate,  there's  no  other  lady  on  earth  I'd  say 
the  same  to,  but  I'll  not  deny  the  fact — to  you,  mind,  and 
quite  between  ourselves — that  cargo  interests  me.  And 
letting  you  further  into  what's  considered  one  of  the  dead- 
est of  secrets,  there  are  times  when  cargo  commission  can 
just  out-balance  fines  for  being  late  with  mails.  You  see 
I  guess  what  you  have  in  your  mind,  Miss.  You  want  me 
to  run  back  and  take  off  the  cargo  that's  waiting  at  Malla- 
Nulla  before  those  Okky-men  come  down  and  raid  it." 

Miss  O'Neill  lay  back  against  the  cushion  and  sipped 
composedly  at  her  hard-boiled  tea.  "  There,"  she  said,  "  I 
knew  you'd  consent.  There's  only  one  little  detail  you've 
made  a  mistake  about.  How  soon  can  you  be  off?  Judg- 
ing from  the  music  of  the  winches,  you're  working  in  the 
cargo  here  at  a  famous  speed." 

-  "  The  mate  reported"  to  me  just  before  you  came  on 
board  that  he'd  have  the  lot  shipped  by  five  o'clock.  Those 
passenger  boys  of  ours  that  you've  made  factory  boys  for 
the  time  being  were  working  splendidly,  so  Mr.  Mate  said. 
But  what's  this  little  mistake,  Miss  Kate  ?  I  can't  go  right 
away  back  to  O'Neill  and  Craven's  factory  at  Monk  River, 
if  that's  what  you  mean." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Captain  Image,  don't  think  me  unreason- 
able. I  shouldn't  dream  of  asking  you  to  do  such  a  thing 
as  that.  I  don't  even  want  you  to  go  out  over  Smooth 
River  bar  for  the  present.  But  I'd  better  tell  you  just 


120  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER 

whaf  s  happened.  You  see  all  afternoon  the  Krooboys  who 
had  run  away  have  been  coming  back,  and  some  of  the 
clerks  have  turned  up,  and  then  came  Mr.  and  Mrs.  da 
Silva.  We  had  quite  a  gathering  of  it,  and  as  Mr.  Carter 
set  them  all  on  to  digging  holes  and  tidying  things  away 
as  they  arrived,  by  this  time  all  the — well,  you  wouldn't 
know  there'd  been  fighting. 

"  But  the  first  to  turn  up  at  the  factory  after  you'd  left 
me  there  was  not  one  of  our  own  people,  but  a  caller.  He 
was  the  agent  in  charge  of  the  German  factory  at  Mokki. 
He  turned  up  in  a  dug-out,  and  he  gave  us  to  understand 
that  he  was  the  most  frightened  man  in  Africa.  He  said 
his  voyage  down  the  creeks  was  one  series  of  miraculous 
escapes.  He  said  he'd  come  to  take  shelter  under  the 
British  flag;  but  when  he  found  that  by  an  oversight  we 
hadn't  got  such  a  piece  of  furniture  about  the  place,  and 
when  he  saw  the  holes  in  the  walls  and  the  roof  and  the — 
the — what  there  was  lying  about  under  that  blazing  sun 
in  the  clearing,  he  was  quite  of  opinion  that  he  hadn't  run 
far  enough." 

"The  blighted  Dutchman,"  said  Captain  Image  con- 
temptuously. 

"Well,  you  see,"  said  the  head  of  O'Neill  and  Craven 
confidentially,  "  a  chance  like  that  suited  me  uncommonly 
well.  To  let  you  into  a  secret  of  our  Liverpool  office,  I  had 
reckoned  on  increasing  the  output  of  all  our  factories,  and 
found  I  was  doing  it  even  more  than  I  had  calculated 
upon.  Consequently  when  there  was  a  big  price  bid  for 
palm  oil  and  kernels  for  autumn  delivery,  I  sold  heavily." 

"And  now  the  King  of  Okky  has  put  ju-ju  on  you, 
stopped  the  roads,  and  there  you  are  caught  short,  me  lad — 
I  beg  pardon,  Miss  Kate,  I  should  have  said." 

"  Of  course  it  only  worried  me  for  the  moment.  These 
tight  places  are  never  really  tight  if  you  take  the  trouble 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  121 

to  think  out  a  way  through  to  the  other  side.  In  this  case 
it's  shown  itself  to  be  delightfully  simple.  I've  bought  out 
the  German." 

Captain  Image  grunted.  "  Then  I  wish  you'd  asked  me 
for  advice  first.  But  perhaps  you  haven't  clinched  the 
deal,  and  can  back  out  of  it  still.  If  you'll  take  the  tip 
from  an  old  Coaster  like  me,  you  have  nothing  to  do  with 
it.  His  old  Dutch  factory's  only  worth  scrap  price." 

"  That's  all  I've  given  for  it" 

"  And  when  you  do  get  the  oil  out  of  it  that's  stored 
there,  if  it  hasn't  been  looted  whilst  he's  been  away  pleasur- 
ing down  the  creeks  in  his  canoe,  where  are  you?  No  bet- 
ter than  here.  Your  trade  will  be  dead.  The  King  of 
Okky's  stopped  all  the  roads." 

"  Now,  I'm  just  going  to  give  you  a  little  geographical 
surprise.  Have  you  got  a  map  ?  " 

Captain  Image  indicated  the  drawers  beneath  the  chart 
table.  "Coast  charts/ of  course,  which  include  the  river 
mouths,  but  I  should  pile  up  the  old  packet  in  a  week  if  I 
relied  on  them.  I'm  my  own  pilot  for  the  most  part,  Miss 
Kate,  and  that's  why  with  God's  Providence  and  a  sound 
use  of  drugs  I've  managed  to  work  successfully  on  the 
coast  all  these  years." 

"  Well,  if  you  haven't  got  a  map  of  the  back  country 
here  in  your  stock,  I  carry  a  very  accurate  one  in  my  head, 
and  if  you'll  give  me  a  paper  and  a  pencil,  I'll  draw  out 
something  that  will  surprise  you." 

The  girl  leaned  over  the  chart  table  and  began  to  draw, 
and  Captain  Image  sat  back  on  his  camp  stool  and  nursed 
a  knee  and  frankly  admired  her.  He  did  not  in  the  least 
believe  in  this  Mokki  venture,  and  had  not  the  smallest 
intention  of  breaking  in  upon  his  usual  routine  by  going 
there.  But  he  had  (so  he  told  himself)  a  distinct  eye  for 
the  beautiful  and  the  romantic,  and  he  found  his  ideals  in 


122  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

these  matters  very  considerably  filled  by  Miss  Kate  O'Neill, 
her  dress,  and  her  occupations. 

"There/'  she  said  at  last,  and  handed  him  the  sketch. 

Captain  Image  looked  at  it,  laughed,  and  shook  his 
head.  He  had  all  of  a  sailor's  intolerance  for  the  amateur 
map-drawer.  Moreover,  he  had  traded  in  part  of  the  Oil 
Rivers  for  twenty  years,  and  if  he  did  not  know  the  back 
country  personally,  he  heard  it  spoken  of  in  the  factories 
and  in  steamer  smoke-rooms  as  matter  of  intimate  knowl- 
edge almost  daily. 

"  Well,  Captain,  don't  just  shake  your  head  and  laugh. 
Let  me  have  your  criticisms." 

"  I'm  not  saying,  of  course,  that  it's  not  a  very  clever 
map.  It  is  that,  and  the  way  you've  put  the  rivers  in 
would  beat  the  knowledge  of  many  who  have  been  on  the 
Coast  for  years.  You've  quite  the  knack  of  drawing  a  map, 
Miss  Kate,  though  there's  another  creek  here  that  you've 
missed,  and  this  continuation  of  what  we  call  the  Dog's- 
leg  channel  you  must  have  guessed  at,  because  I  never 
heard  of  its  being  navigated,  and  nobody  knows  where 
it  goes  to." 

"  It  leads  to  my  new  factory  at  Mokki." 

"  Well,  it  may  do,  though  you  can  take  it  from  me  there's 
no  water  for  a  steamboat  that  draws  even  eleven  foot  six. 
But  the  thing  you're  mainly  wrong  in  is  this  part  you've 
marked  as  the  Okky  country.  You  haven't  carried  it  any- 
where near  far  enough  back." 

Miss  O'Neill  tapped  at  her  firm  white  teeth  with  the  end 
of  the  pencil.  "  You're  quoting  from  the  Royal  Geograph- 
ical Map,"  she  suggested. 

"  Well,  Miss,  I  am,"  Captain  Image  admitted,  "  and  I 
know  it's  just  about  as  inaccurate  as  magazine  fiction  in  a 
whole  lot  of  places.  But  I  shouldn't  set  myself  up  to  buck 
against  a  Royal  Geographical  map  unless  I  knew." 


123 

"  Neither  should  I.  But  you  see  maps  have  always  been 
a  fad  with  me,  and  since  Mr.  Godfrey  died,  and  I  had  the 
whole  weight  of  O'Neill  and  Craven  landed  upon  my  one 
pair  of  shoulders  whether  I  liked  it  or  not,  I  looked  upon 
maps  from  a  ve/y  different  point  of  view.  As  everybody 
on  the  Coast  knows  everybody  else's  business,  I  need  hardly 
point  out  to  you  that  during  Mr.  Godfrey's  latter  days 
O'Neill  and  Craven  had  been  allowed  to  run  down  pretty 
badly,  and  when  I  took  hold,  the  firm  was — well,  what 
shall  I  say?" 

"  Dicky,"  suggested  Captain  Image  kindly.  "  But  I  can 
quite  understand  all  the  hard  words  you'd  like  to  let  out  if  I 
wasn't  here." 

The  girl  laughed.  "  Well,  we'll  put  it,  Captain,  that  the 
firm  was  decidedly  dicky,  and  I've  had  a  most  interesting 
time  in  pulling  it  onto  its  feet.  Incidentally  I've  given 
up  drawing  maps  from  an  amateur's  point  of  view,  and 
have  been  drawing  them  with  an  entire  eye  to  business  in 
the  future.  You've  no  idea  how  interesting  it  is  to  a  busi- 
ness woman,  Captain,  when  some  special  information  comes 
to  her  and  she  is  able  to  go  to  her  map  and  fill  in  a  mile  or 
so  of  river  that  she'd  had  to  leave  a  gap  for,  or  sketch  in  a 
newly-discovered  trade  route  through  what  was  thought  to 
be  hopeless  swamp,  or  fill  in  part  of  the  boundary  line  of 
territory  that  up  to  then  had  merely  merged  off  into  blank 
space." 

"  My  Crumbs,"  said  Captain  Image  admiringly,  "  but 
you  are  a  daisy,  Miss  Kate." 

"  It  was  only  the  day  before  I  left  Liverpool  that  I  got 
news  of  where  the  Okky  territory  ended.  The  French  have 
been  having  some  mysterious  expedition  in  at  the  back  there 
for  purposes  of  their  own,  and  the  officer  in  command  very 
unwisely  caned  the  only  other  white  man  with  him,  who 
was  a  Zouave,  and  wasn't  really  white  at  all.  He  wanted 


124  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

revenge,  so  he  came  to  me  and  told,  and  got  fifty  pounds, 
and  said  he'd  never  enjoyed  letting  off  spite  so  much  in  his 
life  before/' 

Captain  Image  smacked  his  knee.  "  Daisy  isn't  the  word 
for  you,  Miss,"  he  affirmed,  "  and  you  can  tell  people  I 
said  so,  if  you  like.  A  young  lady  that  can  pull  the  leg  of 
these  beastly  foreigners  in  that  way  is  worth  going  a  long 
way  to  meet.  You  oughtn't  to  come  out  here  to  the  Coast. 
You  ought  to  stay  at  home,  Miss  Kate,  and  marry  a  Mem- 
ber of  Parliament." 

"  Poof !  I  wouldn't  for  worlds.  They're  all  too  pompous 
and  too  dull.  They  only  talk,  and  pose  for  the  newspapers ; 
they  never  really  do  anything  constructive  in  the  House. 
Now,  I  like  to  do  things;  and  if  ever  I  marry,  it  will  be  a 
man  who  can  do  things  that  I've  tried  at  rather  better  than 
I  can  do  them  myself.  But  we're  getting  away  from  the 
factory  at  Mokki.  Now,  the  German  agent  doesn't  know 
it,  and  I  didn't  feel  called  upon  to  tell  him,  but  it's  quite 
possible  to  open  up  trade  routes  to  that  point  that  don't 
pass  through  the  Okky  country  at  all.  So  that  upsets  the 
old  King's  notion  of  stopping  the  roads  at  present,  and  in 
the  future,  when  he  gets  tired  of  cutting  off  his  nose  to 
spite  his  face,  and  tries  to  set  trade  going  again,  he'll  find 
the  stuff  is  being  carried  round  very  comfortably  outside 
his  boundary,  and  that  there  is  no  more  blackmail  to  col- 
lect. How  does  that  strike  you,  Captain?  Now,  am  I  a 
crazy  woman  who  is  bound  to  bust  up  O'Neill  and  Craven's 
if  I  am  left  long  enough  to  it  ?  " 

"  I  never  said  that,"  Captain  Image  protested  violently, 
"  and  I'll  wring  that  pious  old  Crewdson's  neck  next  time 
I  see  him.  That  man  can't  carry  corn.  He  evidently  gets 
a  heap  too  loose  tongue  if  you  offer  him  just  a  little  civ- 
ility." 

"  Well,  I  really  am  awfully  glad  you're  going  to  be  nice," 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  125 

said  Miss  O'Neill  as  she  handed  back  her  teacup  with  a  sigh 
of  relief,  "  and  steam  off  up  to  the  creeks  to  Mokki  when 
you've  finished  working  the  cargo  here." 

Captain  Image  stood  with  the  empty  teacup  in  his  hand, 
revolving  in  his  mind  many  things,  and  some  of  his  mut- 
tered comments  were  profane.  He  carried  throughout  all 
the  seaboard  of  West  Africa  a  reputation  for  a  hard  ob- 
stinacy of  which  in  his  way  he  was  not  a  little  proud,  as 
men  can  be  of  assets  whose  value  is  more  than  doubtful; 
and  he  arrived  at  the  idea  that  this  pretty  young  woman 
in  the  crisp  grass  green  muslin  was  twisting  him  round  to 
carry  out  her  own  peculiar  wishes  with  ridiculous  ease. 
"  It's  enough  to  make  any  man  swear,"  declared  Captain 
Image,  as  a  final  summing  up  of  his  sentiments. 

"I  agree  with  you  cordially,"  said  Miss  O'Neill,  "and 
as  I  am  sure  that  you  must  have  done  tremendous  violence 
to  your  feelings  in  letting  me  have  so  much  of  my  own 
way,  I'll  just  let  you  swear  as  a  reward." 

"No,  I'm  damned  if  I  do,  Miss  Kate,"  said  Image  po- 
litely. "  I  shouldn't  dream  of  forgetting  what  is  due  to  a 
lady.  But  don't  you  be  too  sure  of  having  your  whim  grati- 
fied even  now.  I  don't  see  any  way  of  getting  the  M'poso 
to  Mokki  up  those  bits  of  creeks  unless  we  put  wheels  under 
her  and  pull  her  there  through  the  bush." 

"  Have  you  ever  seen  a  steamer  called  the  Frau  Pobst  ?  " 

"  I  have.  She's  a  funny  old  brig-rigged  relic,  with  sawn- 
off  smoke  stacks  and  no  boats." 

"No  boats?" 

"  Oh,  she  started  with  some  in  the  year  one  when  she 
was  built,  but  as  they  always  got  washed  overboard  when 
she  found  herself  in  a  sea-way,  I  guess  they  grew  tired  of 
replacing  them.  I  believe  she  does  carry  some  patent  fold- 
ing concertinas  tied  up  somewhere  near  her  davits,  but 
they're  to  pass  the  Dutch  Board  of  Trade.  They  aren't  for 


126  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER 

use.  Yes,  I  know  the  old  Frau  Pobst.  She  generally  wants 
two  crews  each  voyage." 

"  How's  that  ?  "  asked  Kate,  with  a  twinkle. 

"  Goes  so  slow,  the  first  lot  die  of  old  age."  Captain 
Image  smacked  his  lips  over  the  pleasantry. 

"  What  a  labor  it  must  have  been  to  get  an  old  tub  like 
that  up  to  Mokki." 

"  It  would  take  her  as  many  days  as  it  would  take  me 
hours  in  the  M'poso"  said  Image,  and  could  have  bitten 
out  his  tongue  when  the  words  escaped.  But  Kate  O'Neill 
had  got  up  from  the  settee  and  was  shaking  his  hand.  "  I 
believe  in  reality,  Captain,  you're  just  as  keen  a  business 
man  as  I  am  a  business  woman.  Only  you're  shockingly 
shy  about  showing  it.  No,  don't  get  up.  I'm  just  going 
to  run  back  ashore  again  to  finish  things  up  here.  I'll  be 
back  by  the  time  you've  got  steam.  Please  don't  get  up." 

"  By  Crumbs,  Miss  Kate,  but  don't  you  try  to  dictate  to 
me  about  that.  I'm  going  to  see  you  off  from  the  front 
doorsteps  myself.  By  Crumbs,  there  isn't  another  lady  in 
Africa  I  admire  half  as  much." 


CHAPTER  IX 

NAVIGATION  OF  DOG'S-LEG  CEEEK 

CAPTAIN  IMAGE  yapped  out  his  commands  to  the  third 
mate  and  a  quartermaster  in  the  wheelhouse  in  tones  that 
supplied  many  missing  adjectives : 

" .  .  .  Starboard  your  helm.  Starboard.  Hard-a- 
starboard,  you  bung-eyed  son  of  perdition — stop  her. 
Crumbs !  but  we  sliced  off  a  thumping  big  chunk  of  Africa 
there,  and  broke  half  the  tumblers  in  the  steward's  pantry 
by  the  sound  of  it.  I  bet  something  big  it's  another  case 
of  going  home  on  what's  left  of  the  double  bottom,  and 
Old  Horny  to  pay  in  Water  Street,  Liverpool.  Give  her 
full  ahead  now,  and  steady  your  helm,  quartermaster.  My 
holy  whiskers,  who  wouldn't  sell  a  farm  and  go  to  sea? 
Starboard  your  helm,  six  points.  There,  steady  on  that. 
Half  speed  the  engines."  And  so  on  over  and  over  again 
for  every  hour  since  the  sun  rose  to  blister  the  swamps,  and 
call  forth  the  full  volume  of  their  earth  and  crushed-mari- 
gold smell. 

There  is  a  proverb  bandied  about  amongst  the  sons  of 
men  which  states  that  the  unknown  has  always  its  charm, 
and  harassed  shipmasters  often  wonder  why  it  is  not  pub- 
licly contradicted  in  Norie's  Epitome  of  Navigation.  Car- 
ter either  forgot  or  never  realized  this,  and  furthermore 
made  the  fatal  blunder  of  going  up  onto  the  sacred  upper 
bridge  without  direct  invitation. 

For  half  an  hour  he  had  stood  there  silent,  and  unspoken 
to,  listening  to  Captain  Image's  tirade  against  the  creeks 


128  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

that  led  to  Mokki,  and  then  catching  for  a  moment  the 
mariner's  eye,  ventured  on  an  observation.  He  suggested 
that  at  any  rate  Captain  Image  would  have  the  amusement 
of  feeling  that  he  was  an  explorer;  and  there  was  the  op- 
portunity the  peppery  Welshman  really  needed. 

He  had  not  been  able  to  say  what  he  wished  to  Miss  Kate 
O'Neill,  for  many  reasons ;  but  here  was  her  whipping-boy ; 
and  on  him  Captain  Image  turned  loose  one  of  the  most 
powerful  vocabularies  that  has  ever  been  carried  up  and 
down  the  West  African  seaboard.  He  neglected  both  quar- 
termaster and  third  mate — and  these  two  experts,  being 
only  too  glad  of  the  breathing  space,  kept  the  M'poso  ac- 
curately out  of  the  mangroves,  whilst  their  commander 
gave  an  undivided  attention  to  the  very  highly  qualified  pas- 
senger who  had  dared  to  sully  the  unblemished  deck  plants 
of  the  upper  bridge. 

Now,  under  ordinary  conditions,  Carter  would  have 
recognized  the  circumstances,  and  have  remembered  his 
service,  and  swallowed  the  dose  with  a  smile  and  a  shrug. 
But  things  had  gone  woefully  awry  with  him  during  the 
last  score  of  hours.  The  strain  of  the  fight,  the  discovery 
that  the  man  K.  O'Neill  of  the  letters  was  Miss  Kate  in 
the  flesh,  the  uncertain  future  of  two  Coast  factories,  the 
way  in  which  everybody  received  his  engagement  to  Laura 
Slade;  all  these  things  piled  up  on  one  another  had  set 
his  usually  steady  nerves  jangling  in  a  way  to  which  he 
was  unaccustomed,  and  he  felt  himself  forced  by  a  rather 
insane  impulse  to  do  something  startling.  He  had  suc- 
cessive inclinations  to  throw  up  his  berth  altogether  and 
go  home;  to  marry  Laura  Slade  out  of  hand  by  the  kind 
assistance  of  Captain  Image  and  the  M'poso's  log-book, 
which  occurred  to  him  as  the  local  equivalent  of  Gretna 
Green ;  to  violently  abuse  Miss  Kate  O'Neill  for  being  her- 
self. Finally,  when  the  premonitory  symptoms  of  a  well- 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  129 

earned  dose  of  fever  gripped  him  with  a  stah  and  a  shud- 
der, he  had  the  usual  malarial  depression,  which  put  the 
usual  question  as  to  whether  life  were  really  worth  living. 

Over  and  above  all  these  things,  since  the  first  moment 
of  seeing  Kate,  it  had  heen  borne  in  upon  him  that  he  had 
made  a  mistake  over  his  engagement.  He  did  not  for  a 
moment  think  of  getting  free ;  he  was  doggedly  determined 
to  see  it  through,  or  in  other  words  to  marry  Laura,  what- 
ever the  cost  and  result  might  be.  But  from  that  date 
onward  he  began  to  ask  himself  inconvenient  questions. 
He  demanded  of  his  inner  conscience  a  definition  of  that 
impalpable  thing,  love.  He  wished  to  be  informed  (from 
the  same  source  and  at  the  shortest  notice)  if  he  was  ex- 
actly in  love  with  Miss  Slade  at  that  particular  moment, 
and  when  the  phenomenon  commenced,  and  how  long  it 
was  likely  to  endure.  And  when  Laura,  who  saw  into  a 
good  deal  more  of  all  this  than  he  expected,  offered  to  re- 
lease him  from  his  promise,  he  abused  her  for  the  sugges- 
tion, and  protested  his  affection  for  her  with  such  warmth 
that  he  feared  very  much  after  the  interview  that  he  had 
hopelessly  overdone  it. 

As  a  consequence,  when  Captain  Image  explained  in  a 
two-minute  speech  that  Mr.  Flame-tipped  Carter  was  vio- 
lating the  etiquette  of  nations  in  daring  to  pollute  that 
upper  bridge  with  his  undesirable  feet,  without  direct  in- 
vitation, he  rather  welcomed  the  opportunity  and  retorted 
in  kind. 

Now,  Captain  Image,  as  has  been  hinted,  had  made  the 
most  of  the  years  he  had  spent  sea-going  in  the  matter  of 
picking  up  a  vocabulary;  he  has  to  this  day  brothers  in 
Wales  who  are  local  preachers  and  revivalist  leaders,  and 
there  is  no  doubt  that  he  was  the  inheritor  of  some  ances- 
tral strain  of  burning  eloquence.  Carter,  on  the  other 
hand,  though  not  as  a  rule  a  man  of  much  speech,  had  not 


130  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

lived  with  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  all  those  long  months  with- 
out taking  lessons  in  the  art  of  vituperation,  and  though 
he  was  not  conscious  of  it  at  the  time,  the  education  soaked 
in,  and  when  the  moment  of  stress  arrived  his  memory 
served  him  faithfully. 

Miss  Kate  O'Neill  heard  the  discussion  and  retired  to 
her  room  below.  Stewards  popped  their  heads  round  door- 
ways and  listened  appreciatively;  deck  hands  took  cover 
round  the  angle  of  the  houses  and  strained  their  ears,  and 
the  second  engineer,  who  was  bred  on  Tyneside  and  openly 
claimed  to  be  a  connoisseur,  came  out  brazenly  onto  the 
top  of  the  fiddley  three  yards  from  the  speakers  and  did 
nothing  to  an  unoffending  ventilator  cowl  with  a  three- 
quarter  inch  spanner. 

From  the  present  writers  point  of  view  the  remarks  on 
both  sides  had  the  fatal  drawback  that  their  point  lay  far 
more  in  artistic  delivery  than  in  their  subject  matter,  and 
so  to  report  them  here  verbatim  would  give  a  totally  un- 
just idea  of  their  weight  and  influence.  But  it  must  be 
understood  that  Captain  Image,  who  never  till  now  had 
met  a  foeman  so  worthy  of  his  tongue,  surpassed  himself; 
and  Carter,  who  now  for  the  first  time  used  these  winged 
words  in  hard  vicious  earnest,  felt  all  a  sportsman's  pride 
in  seeing  his  verbal  missiles  land  and  rankle. 

It  is  hard  to  award  the  victory;  and,  in  plain  truth, 
each  orator  was  so  warmed  with  the  effort  of  his  own 
tongue  that  in  another  second  the  British  blood  would 
have  reached  fisticuff  temperature,  and  they  would  have 
clinched.  But  luckily  an  interruption  arrived  to  break  the 
tension.  The  third  mate,  that  terribly  abused  young  man 
who  was  gaining  a  breathing  space  whilst  Carter  stood  up 
against  Captain  Image's  tongue,  at  first  conned  the  M'poso 
up  the  winding  channel  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  and  was  ably 
seconded  by  the  quartermaster  at  the  wheel,  who  had  also 


KATE   MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER  131 

been  suffering.  But  by  degrees  their  sporting  instincts 
drew  them  from  the  matter  immediately  in  hand,  and  made 
them  interested  spectators  of  the  duel.  In  fact  their  in- 
terest absorbed  them,  and,  well,  the  steamer  got  the  small- 
est bit  out  of  hand. 

When  it  was  too  late  the  third  mate  turned  attention 
to  his  duties  again,  and  had  just  time  to  give  four  frenzied 
orders;  there  was  a  fine  jangling  of  the  engine-room  tele- 
graph; the  quartermaster  did  frantic  windmill  work  on 
the  steering  wheel,  to  the  accompaniment  of  a  rattling 
chorus  from  the  wheel  engines  below ;  but  the  M'poso  took 
a  sheer  and  rammed  her  nose  firmly  into  the  mangroves. 
And  in  she  slid.  Weight  and  speed  made  sufficient  mo- 
mentum to  put  her  into  the  mud  and  shrubbery  well  up 
to  the  forerigging,  and  the  jar  sent  the^stiff-set  Captain 
Image  flying  onto  the  top  of  the  fiddley  gratings. 

Carter  shot  up  against  the  white  painted  rail  of  the 
upper  bridge  and  held  his  balance  there,  and  then  with 
that  blind  instinct  for  interfering  for  the  welfare  of  others 
which  distinguishes  the  Anglo-Saxon,  he  vaulted  the  rail, 
picked  up  Captain  Image  and  set  him  on  his  feet. 

It  is  perhaps  typical  also  of  the  peppery  Welshman  that 
he  forgot  the  enjoyable  quarrel  so  promptly  that  he  said, 
"  Thank  you,  me  lad,"  with  ready  cordiality  before  he 
turned  to  do  full  justice  to  the  third  mate,  his  ancestry, 
and  his  probable  future  in  this  world  and  the  next. 

"  By  Jove,"  broke  in  Carter,  "  I  wish  I'd  a  gun.  There's 
a  monkey  on  the  foredeck.  I'd  like  that  little  beggar's 
skin.  I  wonder  if  I  could  catch  him." 

"  Don't  you  try,  me  lad,"  said  Image.  "  The  odds  are 
that  the  front  end  of  this  packet's  a  menagerie  of  red 
mangrove  ants  that  could  gnaw  chunks  off  a  tin-covered 
crusader."  He  jammed  the  engine-room  telegraph  with, 
a  vicious  whirr  to  Full  Speed  Astern,  and  turned  to  the 


132  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

unfortunate  third  mate.  "Here,  you,  if  you  think  you 
know  enough  to  tell  the  difference  between  land  and  water, 
lower  a  boat  and  take  out  a  kedge  astern.  Wait  a  minute. 
Now,  you're  not  to  drop  that  kedge  in  the  mud.  It'll  draw 
through  that  like  pulling  a  hairpin  out  of  a  pot  of  mar- 
malade. You're  to  get  ashore  and  hook  it  among  those 
mangrove  roots.  Just  try  and  get  it  into  your  intelligent 
head  that  I  don't  want  that  kedge  to  come  home  directly 
we  put  a  strain  on  the  wire.  When  you've  done  that  you 
can  come  back  and  go  to  your  room  and  read  Shakespeare. 
I  guess  that's  about  all  you  blooming  brass-bound  Conway 
sailors  are  fit  for,  except  sparking  the  girls  and  drawing 
your  pay.  By  Crumbs !  if  we  hadn't  Miss  Kate  on  board, 
and  for  anything  I  know  within  earshot,  I  could  just  give 
you  an  opinion  of  your  looks  that  would  make  you  want  to 
cry." 

But  with  the  tide  in  the  muddy  river  ebbing  under  her, 
the  M'poso  stuck  in  the  dock  she  had  made,  in  spite  of 
reversed  propeller,  and  winches  straining  on  the  kedge 
wire  till  they  threatened  to  heave  themselves  bodily  from 
the  decks.  The  insect  torments  of  Africa  boarded  her 
from  the  mangroves  and  bit  all  live  things  they  came 
against;  obscene  land  crabs  dressed  in  raw  and  startling 
colors  waddled  up  onto  the  slime  of  the  banks  as  the  water 
left  them  and  blew  impotent  froth  bubbles  at  the  tough 
steamboat  which  even  they  could  not  eat.  Parrots  crowed 
at  them  from  the  shining  green  foliage  of  the  mangroves 
alongside;  slimy  things  gazed  at  them  from  the  mud  be- 
neath the  arches  of  the  wire-like  roots. 

The  sun  crawled  up  into  the  aching  blue  overhead  till  it 
forgot  how  to  cast  a  shadow,  and  the  wet  steam  heat  grew 
so  oppressive  that  even  Laura  Slade,  country-born  though 
she  was,  felt  sick  with  its  violence.  But  Miss  Kate 
O'Neill  on  the  awning  deck  did  elaborate  calculations  on 


KATE   MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  133 

fleets  of  paper,  which  she  tore  up  and  threw  into  the 
beer-colored  river  when  she  had  entered  the  results  in  her 
pocket-book ;  and  down  in  the  purser's  room,  Carter  carved 
images  on  Okky  calabashes  for  the  English  curiosity  mar- 
ket. 

To  him  came  Mr.  Balgarnie,  dripping  and  fuming. 
"Great  whiskers!  man,  why  did  you  shut  the  port-hole? 
You're  lean;  but  if  I  stay  in  this  atmosphere  I  shall  peg 
out  of  heat  apoplexy  in  half  an  hour.  Here,  let  me  open 
the  port  and  stick  out  the  wind  scoop." 

"Wind  scoop's  no  good;  there  isn't  a  breath.  And  if 
you  open  the  port  you'll  be  devoured.  I  tried  it.  I'm  a 
Dalesman  and  I  like  a  draught  of  air,  but  it's  no  go  here. 
Eed  ants,  I  think  they  are.  Look  at  the  way  they've  been 
eating  the  insides  out  of  your  domestic  cockroaches.  Now 
gaze  on  this  chop  bowl?  Isn't  it  a  gem?  Any  stay-at- 
home  Englishman  would  spot  it  as  genuine  native  work- 
manship in  a  moment.  All  done  with  a  blunt  knife ;  that's 
the  great  tip  in  this  sort  of  carving." 

"Have  a  drop  of  whiskey?  You  fit  for  dash  me  dem 
bowl?" 

"  No,  Purser,  I'm  not  going  to  give  away  anything  just 
now.  I  want  five  shillings  spot  cash  for  this  specimen, 
and  it's  dirt  cheap  at  that.  When  you've  weathered  it  a 
bit,  and  given  it  a  dressing  of  good  yellow  palm  oil,  it 
will  fetch  a  golden  sovereign  from  a  Las  Palmas  tripper, 
easy." 

"  They're  a  hard-up  lot,  the  people  who  come  to  the 
Islands  these  days,  and  they're  inclined  to  get  too  fam- 
iliar if  you  offer  as  a  favor  to  sell  them  anything  they 
may  see  in  your  room.  I've  chucked  showing  them  things. 
But  I  might  get  three  half-crowns  for  that  bowl  in  Liver- 
pool. Of  course,  I  don't  want  any  commission  from  you, 
old  fellow.  I'll  hand  over  every  penny  I'm  paid  for  it." 


134  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

Carter  stuck  out  a  dogged  chin.  "  Look  here,  Purser, 
it's  too  hot  for  frills,  and  we  know  one  another  a  bit  too 
well  for  them  to  go  down.  Potter  out  five  bob  and  the 
thing's  yours  to  make  what  you  can  of.  If  you  don't,  I've 
another  customer  who'll  give  more.  I'm  hard  up." 

"  Oh,  of  course,  yes.  You  want  to  set  up  housekeeping, 
don't  you  ?  Well,  old  fellow,  here  are  the  two  half-crowns 
towards  the  mangle  or  the  grand  piano  or  whatever  you've 
set  your  mind  on  getting  first.  Sorry  I  ragged  you  about 
being  engaged  to  Laura  last  night  at  Smooth  River.  But, 
you  fcae,  I  know  Owe-it  Slade,  and  I've  known  Laura  all 
her  life,  and  of  course  I  was  a  bit  surprised  to  be  told,  you 
know — well,  to  be  told  that  you,  of  all  people,  had  made 
it  up  with  her.  But,  as  I  say,  I'm  sorry  I  ragged  you." 

"  Please  don't  apologize  on  a  hot  day  like  this,"  Carter 
snapped.  "  As  I  don't  value  your  opinion  on  a  matter 
like  that  one  jot,  I  naturally  didn't  let  anything  you  said 
disturb  my  sleep.  Good-afternoon.  If  you're  going  to 
occupy  your  room,  I'll  go  out  on  deck  and  enjoy  the  in- 
fernal crushed-marigold  stink  of  this  drain  from  a  dif- 
ferent point." 

"  That  young  man  knows  he's  made  a  fool  of  himself," 
commented  the  Purser  sagely,  "and  he's  as  sore  and  un- 
easy as  a  skinned  eel  in  a  tub  of  sand.  Well,  if  he  wants 
to  furnish  a  lil'  log  hut  for  his  dusky  Laura,  so  much  the 
better  for  trade.  He's  the  neatest  trick  of  making  native 
curios  in  all  West  Africa,  and  I've  got  all  his  home  busi- 
ness in  my  hand.  It's  all  rot  about  his  trading  with  an- 
other purser ;  there  isn't  one  on  the  Coast  that  works  this 
line,  or  I  should  have  heard  about  it.  If  the  output's  in- 
creased, I  shall  try  and  work  up  a  connection  with  Amer- 
ica. My  Whiskers !  why  not  ?  What's  wrong  with  enrich- 
ing the  United  States  with  some  good  broad-bladed  Okky 
spears,  and  a  war  horn  or  two  just  as  a —  Hullo,  yes, 
who's  that?  Ah,  come  in." 


KATE    MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  135 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  Purser's  door,  and  White- 
Man's-Trouble  entered  in  reply  to  the  invitation.  "  Oh, 
Purser,"  he  said,  "  dem  bug,"  and  opened  a  black  fist  and 
showed  three  electric-blue  butterflies  in  his  white  palm. 

The  Purser  took  them  one  by  one  in  his  plump  fingers 
and  dropped  them  gingerly  into  an  empty  cardboard  cig- 
arette box.  "I  don't  think  they'll  be  much  use,  boy. 
You've  rubbed  too  much  fluff  off  with  those  delicate  paws 
of  yours.  Savvy  ?  " 

"  I  savvy  I  fit  for  dash,"  said  the  Krooboy  pointedly. 

"  Pooh,  these  are  worth  nothing.  What  do  you  take  me 
for?  A  tripper,  or  the  Bank  of  England?  Ah,  would 
you,  you  infernal  thieving  monkey  ?  "  Mr.  Balgarnie  had 
turned  his  back  and  had  glanced  in  a  shaving  mirror  which 
hung  by  the  port  and  saw  White-Man's-Trouble  helping 
himself  to  a  Tauchnitz  novel,  which  he  promptly  tucked 
underneath  his  coat. 

The  Krooboy  put  the  book  down.  He  did  not  waste 
time  in  apologizing  for  the  theft  of  something  that  was 
entirely  useless  to  him.  He  went  straight  to  a  matter  of 
far  graver  interest. 

"  Oh,  Purser,  how  you  seen  me  take  dem  thing  ?  You 
no  see  with  you  eyes.  You  eyes  lib  for  look  out  of  win- 
dow." 

"Attend,"  said  Mr.  Balgarnie,  and  struck  an  attitude. 
"  I  am  the  man  known  to  science  as  the  Freak-who-has- 
eyes-at-the-back-of-his-head.  Observe,  I  have  my  back  to 
you  and  yet  I  can  see  that  you  are  picking  your  nose  with 
your  strong  left  hand,  and  scratching  the  floor  with  your 
starboard  toe." 

"  I  no  fit  for  see  you  back  eyes." 

"  That  is  because  they  are  ju-ju  eyes.  Oh,  White-Man's- 
Trouble,  I  bid  you  fear  the  Powers  of  Darkness  and  steal 
no  more  anything  that  is  mine.  You  savvy  ?  " 


136  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEE 

"Savvy  plenty!" 

"  And  as  a  further  punishment,  I  bid  you  catch  me  ten 
more  butterflies,  and  take  care  you  don't  rub  the  feathers 
off,  or  they'll  be  no  use  to  Miss  Kate." 

"  Missy  Kate !  What  for  she  want  dem  bug  ?  Dem  no 
fit  for  chop." 

"  To  make  ju-ju  of." 

White-Man's-Trouble  grinned.  "  Missy  Kate  no  savvy 
ju-ju  palaver.  Dem  Carter,  he  show  her  dem  god  with 
talk-pipe,  an'  she  say,  'Well,  dere  no  ju-ju  about  him/ 
Oh,  Purser,  I  say  dem  god  with  talk-pipe  plenty-too-much- 
fine  ju-ju.  Okky-men  savvy  plenty  him  ju-ju." 

te  Your  theology's  a  bit  above  my  head,  but  I  don't  mind 
telling  you  in  confidence  that  butterfly  collecting's  the 
lady's  habit,  just  the  same  as — let  me  see — just  the  same 
as  stealing  things  that  are  no  use  to  you  is  yours,  and 
spear  making's  Mr.  Carter's.  Savvy  ?  " 

"  Savvy  some,"  said  the  Krooboy  doubtfully.  "  Does 
Missy  sell  dem  bugs  to  steamah  pursers,  an'  come  ashore 
an'  say  dem  dam'  greedy  hounds  ?  " 

"  If  you've  got  that  idea  in  your  aboriginal  mind,"  said 
Mr.  Balgarnie  with  a  yawn,  "  don't  let  me  crowd  it  with 
anything  nearer  the  truth.  You  bring  Miss  Kate  plenty 
of  butterflies  without  the  pretty  rubbed  off,  and  presently 
she  dash  you  a  new  top  hat  with  a  gold  band  to  it." 

"  I  no  fit  for  take  dash  from  Missy,"  said  White-Man's- 
Trouble  with  dignity.  "  I  bring  her  plenty-too-many  bugs 
for  nix.  I  fit  for  know  my  job." 

The  purser  stared  with  tired  eyes.  "  So  you  honor  her 
with  your  respectful  admiration,  too,  do  you?  I  wish  I 
could  get  her  knack.  There,  clear  out  with  you,  and  put 
the  door  on  the  hook.  Take  your  dirty  hands  away  from 
that  tooth-brush,  confound  you,  and  get  out.  It's  my  time 
for  siesta." 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  137. 

In  the  meanwhile  Laura  Slade  had  gone  out  on  the 
bridge  deck,  had  found  a  chair  without  a  card  on  it,  and 
had  dragged  it  up  alongside  her  friend.  She  waited  pa- 
tiently till  one  of  the  long  calculations  had  been  worked 
out  and  the  result  entered  up  in  the  pocket-book,  and  then, 
when  the  figures  were  torn  small,  she  jumped  up  and  took 
the  scraps  of  paper  from  the  other  girl's  hand. 

"  Please  let  me  do  something,  Kate.  At  least  I  can 
throw  them  overboard  for  you/' 

Miss  O'Neill  laughed,  and  plied  her  palm  leaf  fan.  "  My 
dear  girl,  I'm  most  pleased  to  be  tempted  away  from  work. 
In  school  days,  as  you  will  remember,  I  was  worse  than 
you  were  at  sums.  I've  had  to  grind  at  them  since,  but 
it's  not  made  me  love  them  any  the  more.  Why  can't  I 
be  a  rich  woman  without  working  for  it  ?  " 

"  Do  you  want  so  very  much  to  be  rich  ?  " 

Kate  turned  to  her  friend  and  opened  her  eyes  wide. 
They  were  brown  eyes,  and  someone  once  described  them  as 
talkative.  But  people  who  knew  her  better  were  very  con- 
scious of  the  fact  that  Miss  Kate  O'Neill's  eyes  only  ex- 
pressed things  when  she  willed  that  they  should  do  so. 

"Do  I  want  to  be  rich?  Well,  of  course.  One  can't 
have  things  or  do  things  unless  one  has  money.  And  if 
I  don't  get  money,  no  one  will  for  me;  or,  at  least,  I'd 
rather  they  wouldn't.  Of  course,  you  have  got  Mr.  Carter 
to  work  for  you,  Laura;  but  I  am  sure,  when  you  put  it 
into  cold  words,  you'd  like  him  to  make  money,  too.  You 
don't  want  to  live  all  your  days  on  the  Coast  here,  the  pair 
of  you.  You  look  forward  to  going  home,  and  having  a 
house  and  a  garden,  and  a  motor  car,  and  a  man  to  drive 
it.  And  you'd  like  to  have  good  servants  and  nice  frocks. 
Yes,  especially  nice  frocks." 

"Like  yours.  Yes,  I  should  like  a  nice  frock  like  that 
one,  Kate,  if  you  won't  mind  my  copying  it." 


138  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

"  What,  this  rag  ?  My  dear,  sweet  child,  with  your  eyes, 
and  your  figure,  and  the  complexion  you'd  grow  in  Eng- 
land, you'd  pay  to  dress  far  more  than  ever  I  should.  Mr. 
Carter  will  work  hard  and  earn  a  big  income,  just  for 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  you  decently  clad." 

There  was  a  minute's  silence,  and  then,  "  Why  do  you 
dislike  my  engagement  so  much,  Kate  ?  " 

"Me  dislike  it?  What  rubbish.  I  think  it's  a  most 
excellent  thing  for  you,  if  only  Mr.  Carter  goes  on  as  he 
has  begun." 

"  Then  I'll  word  it  differently.  Why  do  you  dislike 
George  so  much  ?  " 

"  Whatever  gave  you  that  idea  ?  Mr.  Carter,  considering 
the  short  time  he  has  been  on  the  Coast,  has  done  most 
excellently  for  the  firm,  and — well — I'etat  c'est  moi.  I 
know  you  condemn  me  for  being  abominably  commercial, 
but  what  nearer  way  do  you  think  there  can  be  to  my 
heart  than  through  my  pocket  ?  " 

"  Your  heart !  "  Laura  repeated,  and  stared  large-eyed  at 
the  yellow  river  that  swirled  past  the  steamer's  rusty 
flanks.  An  alligator,  that  looked  very  much  like  a  half 
submerged  log,  drifted  down  with  the  tide,  and  a  bird 
that  rode  upon  him  dug  vigorously  between  the  rows  of  his 
plates  with  his  beak.  She  watched  them  till  they  passed 
away  down  the  stream  and  were  lost  in  the  glare  of  the 
sunshine.  "  I  wonder,"  she  said  in  a  half -whisper,  "  if 
your  heart  wants  something  which  it  will  break  my  heart 
for  you  to  get?" 

Miss  Kate  O'Neill  got  up  and  gave  a  very  healthy  laugh. 
"  Don't  mutter,"  she  said,  "  and  don't  be  ridiculous.  To 
begin  with,  I'm  not  of  the  marrying  sort;  to  go  on  with, 
your  taste  (as  typified  in  Mr.  Carter)  and  mine  don't 
agree  one  little  bit;  and  to  wind  up  with,  Laura  dear, 
don't  let's  pose  like  a  pair  of  school-girls.  I  don't  know 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER  139 

whether  there's  a  slight  natural  antipathy  between  two 
red-haired  people " 

"Your  hair's  not  red  in  the  least,  Kate.  It's  a  very 
dark  auburn." 

"  I  should  call  it  warmish.  Anyhow,  Mr.  Carter's  is  red 
enough.  And  as  you  will  drag  the  subject  up,  I  must 
really  point  out  to  you  that  he's  been  hardly  civil  in  the 
way  he's  avoided  me.  I  haven't  got  smallpox." 

"  You're  his  employer.  When  you  call  him  I'm  sure 
he's  glad  enough  to  talk  to  you  about  what  you  want. 
But  you  must  see  his  position;  he  wouldn't  like  to  risk 
a  snub  by  coming  up  when  you  might  not  happen  to 
want  him." 

"  I  see.  The  idea  that  all  communications  should  be 
conducted  in  a  cold  business  footing.  Am  I  to  understand 
that  Mr.  Carter  wished  you  to  convey  that  view  to  me, 
Laura?" 

"  You  know  quite  well  he  didn't.  Kate,  we  used  to  be 
friends.  I  wish  you'd  answer  me  honestly  what  I  asked 
you  just  now." 

"  Don't  be  tragic  and  ridiculous.  You're  half  sick  with 
the  heat,  and  I  really  believe  you  want  to  quarrel  with 
me  by  way  of  safety  valve.  Well,  my  dear,  I  shan't  quar- 
rel with  you,  that's  all.  I  hate  quarrelling.  I've  been 
dodging  the  excellent  Captain  Image  all  the  day,  as  I 
know  he  wants  to  ease  off  his  temper  on  me  just  because 
his  silly  old  steamer  has  stuck  her  nose  on  the  bank  and 
got  left  by  the  tide.  By  the  way,  I  candidly  believe  the 
accident  happened  just  because  he  was  amusing  himself 
just  at  that  precise  moment  with  having  a  turn-up  with — 
oh,  well,  we're  getting  onto  touchy  ground  again.  And 
— here  is  Mr.  Carter.  You  seem  in  a  hurry." 

Carter  came  up  the  ladder  to  the  bridge  deck  in  two 
strides,  and  it  was  noteworthy  that  he  addressed  his  first 


140  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

remark  to  his  employer,  and  not  to  his  fiancee.  "  Do  you 
mind  going  below?  There  are  half  a  dozen  big  Okky  wai 
canoes  round  that  point  ahead  there.  I've  been  forrad 
there,  and  could  see  them  quite  plainly  through  the  man- 
grove roots." 

"Have  you  told  the  Captain?" 

"  No.  I'll  tell  him  next.  But  will  you  go  below,  or  into 
one  of  these  deck  houses  ?  They  are  probably  covering  us 
this  minute,  and  it's  pot-leg  they  fire,  not  bullets.  Pot-leg 
spreads  and  can  make  ghastly  wounds." 

"  I  don't  like  running  away." 

"  If  you  could  do  any  good  staying  out  in  the  open  I 
wouldn't  ask  you  to  move.  Laura,  will  you  persuade  Miss 
O'Neill  to  go  into  cover,  as  she  won't  take  any  notice  of 
me?" 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Kate  sharply,  "  but  Laura  need  not 
interfere.  I  am  accustomed  to  making  up  my  own  mind, 
Mr.  Carter,  without  help  from  anyone.  I  am  much  obliged 
to  you  for  your  care,  and  as  I  can't  be  of  any  use  at  pres- 
ent, and  as  I  have  no  insane  wish  to  be  shot,  I  shall  cer- 
tainly go  into  shelter." 

"  Very  good,"  said  Carter ;  "  then  I'll  go  and  carry  the 
news  to  old  Image.  It's  a  lucky  thing  I  brought  along 
that  Winchester  of  Slade's.  We  shall  keep  them  off  all 
right." 

It  turned  out  that  Captain  Image  already  had  tid- 
ings of  the  war  canoes,  and  was  red  with  wrath  at 
the  idea  of  any  qualified  black  savages  having  the 
unmentionable  impudence  to  make  a  something  naval 
demonstration  against  a  sacred  Liverpool  oil  tank.  His 
language  was  quite  unprintable,  but  his  disposition  of 
•the  steamer's  forces  was  remarkably  sound.  Tackles 
squeaked  as  a  Krooboy  gang  hoisted  the  ladder  which 
hung  alongside.  The  boatswain  loaded  the  two  brass  sig- 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  141 

nal  guns  on  the  bridge  deck  with  their  usual  noisy  charge 
of  blank,  and  rammed  a  three-pound  parcel  of  four-inch 
cut  nails  down  the  muzzle  of  each  on  the  top  of  the  powder 
bags.  The  carpenter  replaced  the  gangways  which  are 
always  unshipped  when  steamers  are  in  the  rivers  working 
cargo.  And  the  winches  chattered  as  they  each  hove  up  a 
ponderous  palm  oil  puncheon  to  the  top  of  a  derrick, 
which  was  then  swung  outboard  so  that  the  puncheon 
could  be  let  go  by  the  run,  and  smash  any  canoe  made 
of  hands  that  happened  to  be  underneath. 

When  these  pious  duties  had  been  fulfilled,  the  crew 
lined  out  along  each  of  the  lower  deck  rails  armed  with 
spanners,  firebars,  handspikes,  and  in  fact  any  other 
weapon  which  a  modern  steamer  could  provide,  which  in 
lusty  hands  might  be  called  upon  to  break  a  human  head. 

On  the  upper  bridge  Captain  Image  oversaw  the  only 
two  mates  who  were  not  down  with  fever  as  they  directed 
and  assisted  these  operations,  and  when  all  was  ready  he 
laid  his  own  hands  on  the  siren  string  and  let  loose  a 
hoarse  throaty  blast  of  defiance  across  the  creeks  and  the 
steamy  forest. 

"There,  Carter,  me  lad,"  said  he,  "that's  to  show  the 
blighters  we're  here  and  waiting.  I'm  glad  you've  brought 
that  Winchester.  It's  the  only  gun  in  the  ship  since  Owe- 
it  Slade  borrowed  my  Holland  and  forgot  to  bring  it  back. 
They  tell  me  you're  a  nailing  fine  shot,  too." 

"  Couldn't  hit  a  haystack  with  anything  except  a  scatter 
gun." 

"  Well,"  said  Image  dryly,  "  as  I  saw  some  of  your  pa- 
tients spread  about  in  the  clearing  outside  Smooth  River 
Factory,  I  shall  believe  just  as  much  of  that  as  I  choose. 
It's  not  my  affair  to  mention  it,  of  course,  but  I  do  know 
that  Miss  Kate  was  very  considerably  struck  by  the  way 
you  kept  those  niggers  off,  and  if  you  hadn't  been  en- 
gaged to  Slade's  girl " 


142  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  Which  I  am,  Captain.  So,  therefore,  it's  no  use  going 
into  useless  possibilities.  By  the  way,  isn't  that  stern  wire 
slackening  ?  " 

"  By  Crumbs,  me  lad,  you've  got  a  quick  eye.  The  tide's 
coming  up  underneath  her,  and  she's  slipping  off.  Here 
you,  Mr.  Third  Mate,  ring  those  engines  to  full  astern, 
and  try  and  keep  it  in  your  head  that  you'd  be  in  your 
room  now  if  I  weren't  short  of  officers." 

With  the  lift  of  the  yellow  tide  beneath  her,  the  M'poso 
drew  out  from  her  muddy  dock  as  a  sword  is  pulled  from 
its  sheath,  hung  for  a  dozen  minutes  in  mid-stream  whilst 
the  stern-warp  and  its  anchor  were  got  aboard,  and  then, 
gathering  her  boat  and  its  crew  up  to  davits,  turned  stub- 
bornly up  the  river. 

"  I'll  show  these  Okky  blighters  what  trouble  is,"  de- 
clared Captain  Image,  "if  they  try  and  stop  me.  I've 
had  their  old  king  in  my  chart  house  here  with  Swizzle- 
Stick  Smith  and  the  other  traders  a  score  of  times,  and 
if  he  didn't  drink  the  ship  dry,  it  was  only  because  I 
wouldn't  let  him.  And  now  in  return  for  that  hospitality 
he  brings  out  his  infernal  war  canoes.  I  only  hope  he's  in 
one  of  them  and  comes  alongside.  I'll  brain  him  with  an 
oil  puncheon  if  I  get  him  in  range." 

But  when  they  opened  up  the  reach  behind  the  point 
where  the  canoes  had  been  seen,  there  was  no  offer  of 
attack.  There  were  three  craft  in  view,  fifty  paddle-power 
dugouts  all  of  them,  crammed  with  men  and  weapons,  fan- 
tastic with  horrible  ju-ju  charms ;  but  they  hung  on  to  the 
wire-like  stems  of  the  mangroves  and  remained  so  moored 
till  the  steamer  drew  past  and  began  to  dance  them  up 
and  down  upon  its  wash.  A  monkey-skin  drum  in  each 
was  beaten  impressively  by  two  drummers,  but  no  weapons 
were  levelled,  and  there  was  no  threat  of  boarding. 

"  Faugh !  "  said  Image,  and  spat.    "  Did  you  catch  the 


KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  143 

smell  of  those  beauties  when  we  had  them  abeam?  Talk 
of  a  'bus  stable  struck  by  lightning !  " 

"  They  aren't  there  just  to  take  in  the  scenery,"  said 
Carter  thoughtfully. 

"An  Okky-man  is  born  to  mischief  even  as  the  sparks 
fly  upward.  Look,  they're  casting  off  their  shorefasts  and 
getting  under  weigh  down  stream.  No,  by  Crumbs,  they're 
turning  up  stream  after  me.  Well,  of  all  the  blighted 
cheek!  Do  you  know  what  that  means,  Carter,  me  lad? 
They're  going  to  follow  us.  They  think  they've  got  some 
ju-ju  by  which  they  can  cut  us  off  from  the  Coast.  Ah, 
here's  Miss  Kate.  Well,  Miss,  as  I've  you  to  think  of  as  well 
as  my  ship,  I  shall  turn  presently  and  run  back  again  for 
the  bar.  You  see  for  yourself,  I  should  think  now,  that  it 
isn't  healthy  up  this  river,  and  all  the  cargo  in  Africa  is 
no  use  to  a  man  if  he  can't  get  it  shipped  when  he  comes 
to  the  beach  where  it's  stored.  If  any  one  of  the  war 
canoes  get  in  my  way,  I'll  show  you  what  those  bushmen 
look  like  when  they're  swimming  in  yellow  water,  for  as 
sure  as  the  Lord  made  crocodiles,  I'll  ram  their  noisy  dug- 
outs if  I  can.  I'll  teach  them  to  thump  their  nasty  smell- 
ing war  drums  at  me." 

"  Poof,  Captain,  don't  you  try  to  take  me  in.  I  should 
like  to  hear  anyone  else  suggesting  that  you  couldn't  take 
the  M'poso  to  a  spot  where  the  Frau  Pobst  had  made  regu- 
lar voyages." 

Captain  Image  thrust  forward  his  head  and  glared.  "  I 
can  take  this  packet  anywhere  that  blessed  Dutchman's 
been,  Miss." 

"  Of  course  you  can.  And  when  the  Frau  Pobst's  cap- 
tain has  shipped  cargo  from  a  spot " 

"  And  given  up  going  there,  Miss,  because  it's  too  dan- 
gerous." 

"  Precisely.  Well,  as  I  couldn't  insult  you  by  calling 
you  less  than  twice  as  brave  as  the  German,  that  means 


144  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

that  no  little  trouble  that's  going  on  between  here  and 
Mokki  will  frighten  you  in  the  very  least.  Is  that  good 
argument  ?  " 

"  Oh,  go  on,  Miss.  Twist  me  round  your  finger.  I  like 
it.  Besides  it  isn't  the  first  time  I've  played  a  neck-or- 
nothing  game.  But  I'm  hanged  if  I  see  that  it's  an 
amusement  for  a  pretty  young  lady  like  you." 

Captain  Image  was  speaking  in  plain  earnest,  and  he 
was  a  man  who  knew.  Kate  O'Neill  was  seized  with  a 
sudden  qualm.  Was  she  right  to  force  on  this  risk  ?  Would 
the  Okky-men  attack,  or  could  they  bring  off  the  cargo 
successfully  ?  Nobody  but  herself  seemed  to  see  a  shadow 
of  chance  for  success.  And  these  others  were  all  old  Coast- 
ers against  whom  she  was  setting  up  her  will. 

But  when  she  thought  of  giving  way  and  turning  back 
the  cost  of  retreat  promptly  leaped  up  and  faced  her  in 
plain  figures.  O'Neill  and  Craven  were  heavily  involved, 
how  heavily  no  one  knew  but  old  white-haired  Crewdson 
and  herself.  The  Mokki  oil  that  she  had  bought  so  cheap 
would  save  them.  Without  it  there  would  be  bankruptcy, 
and,  what  she  dreaded  even  more,  the  contemptuous  finger 
of  Liverpool  pointed  at  the  woman  who  had  taken  upon 
herself  a  man's  responsibilities  and  broken  down  beneath 
them. 

These  thoughts  dinned  through  her  again  and  again, 
but  outwardly  her  face  smiled  and  her  lips  spoke  lightly. 

"  Now,  it  is  nice  of  you  to  give  me  a  promise  like  that, 
Captain." 

"Like  what?" 

"To  say  that  you'll  go  on  till  my  nerves  give  way. 
Well,  let  it  be  so.  I  promise  to  give  you  news  of  it  the 
moment  I'm  frightened.  Look,  there's  an  omen  for  you 
to  read  to  me.  The  Okky-men  in  that  first  war  canoe  are 
all  standing  up  and  waving  their  spears.  What  does  that 
mean,  I  wonder?" 


CHAPTEE  X 

ENVOYS     IN     COUNCIL 

"HALLO,  Meredith,  I  heard  rumors  that  there  was  a 
white  man  up  in  this  part  of  the  bush,  but  I  never  guessed 
it  was  you.  I  did  think  of  sending  on  a  runner  to  see,  but 
somehow  I  didn't." 

"  No,  you  wouldn't,"  said  the  older  man.  "  I  never 
knew  you  make  up  your  mind  to  anything  unless  it  was 
decided  for  you.  Now,  look  here,  Slade,  we're  in  lonely 
country  here,  and  if  I  shoot  you,  you'll  never  be  missed; 
and,  by  gad,  shoot  you  I  will  unless  you  mend  your  mem- 
ory."  ' 

"  Poof !  what  does  it  matter  ?  We're  the  only  white  men 
within  two  hundred  miles,  and  the  boys  are  out  of  earshot." 

"A  black  boy  can  hear  a  lot  farther  than  you  think, 
and  for  that  matter  I've  known  trees  in  West  Africa  to 
have  ears  that  understand  English — at  least  that  has  been 
the  only  explanation  one  could  Und  of  the  way  things  have 
leaked  out.  But  we'll  leave  all  that  alone.  I've  given  you 
to  understand  by  what  name  I  wish  to  be  addressed." 

"Well,  you  needn't  be  so  short  about  it.  I've  always 
called  you  Smith  down  in  the  Coast  factories.  Of  course 
I  can't  forget  that  I  once  knew  you  when  you  were " 

"Will  you  hold  your  slobbering  tongue?  If  you  can't, 
say  so,  and  I'll  stop  it  once  and  for  always.  I've  told  you 
my  wish;  to  you  or  anyone  else  I'm  Smith,  or  Swizzle- 
Stick  Smith,  which  you  like.  I've  no  connection  with 
anything  that  went  before,  and  'pon  my  soul,  as  you're 


146  KATE   MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

the  only  man  now  alive  that  knows  it,  I  believe  I'd  be  a 
lot  safer  if  you  were  out  of  the  way." 

Slade  turned  his  back  petulantly.  "  Oh,  do  stop  this 
wrangle.  I'll  call  you  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  to  the  end  of 
the  chapter,  and  forget  that  you  were  ever  anything  other 
than  a  drunken  old  palm-oil  ruffian,  if  it  pleases  you. 
Come  to  my  hut  and  chop.  I  shot  some  parrots  this 
morning.  They'll  taste  a  bit  like  high  rook,  but  they  are 
better  than  tinned  stuff  anyway.  They  came  over  finely; 
real  raketers.  It  was  quite  like  the  old  days  at  home. 
This  gun,  by  the  way,  is  about  my  last  link  with  ancestral 
splendor.  Look  there,  a  Holland.  They  wanted  me  to 
have  ejectors,  I  remember,  but  I  wouldn't." 

Mr.  Smith 'screwed  his  eyeglass  into  his  other  eye  and 
straightened  the  new  black  silk  ribbon  by  which  it  hung. 
"  No,"  he  said  grimly,  "  that  was  very  wise  of  you,  es- 
pecially as  ejectors  weren't  invented  when  that  gun  was 
built.  I  wonder  what  sort  of  a  tale  you  told  Image  before 
he  trusted  you  with  it?" 

"What  are  you  driving  at?  What's  Cappie  Image  to 
do  with  it?" 

"  That's  my  gun.  I  had  it — well,  as  you've  started  the 
forbidden  subject  already — I  had  it  before  the  fall.  Image 
saw  it  at  Malla-Nulla  one  day  when  I  was  full  up  and 
walked  off  with  it,  and  I  never  managed  to  get  it  back 
from  him.  He  always  said  the  beach  was  too  bad  to  risk 
letting  a  surf  boat  bring  it  ashore.  Well,  you  may  keep 
the  thing  for  the  present,  and  I'll  take  a  bowlful  of  your 
parrot  stew  by  way  of  rent.  This  the  house?  You've 
managed  to  find  yourself  pretty  comfortable  quarters,  I 
see." 

The  house  was  a  series  of  rooms  packed  round  an  in- 
ternal courtyard.  The  outer  walls  were  of  wattle,  luted 
with  mud  thrown  onto  them  in  vigorous  handfuls,  and 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  147 

left  to  bake  hard  in  the  sun.  The  roof  was  a  pile  of  un- 
tidy thatch,  the  floor  of  hardened  mud,  and  in  the  middle 
of  the  courtyard  was  an  ineffective  shade-tree  scorched  by 
the  smoke  of  the  cooking  fires.  Beyond  this  house  sprawled 
the  other  houses  of  a  small  West  African  village,  with  the 
usual  squalor  heaped  between  them. 

To  most  Europeans  there  would  have  been  much  to  no- 
tice— the  cooking  vessels,  the  calabashes,  the  food,  the  ju-ju 
charms  that  one  met  at  unexpected  corners,  the  scaveng- 
ing dogs,  and  the  all-pervading  smells.  But  Swizzle- 
Stick  Smith's  curiosity  was  worn  by  twenty  years  attri- 
tion, and  these  savage  circumstances  had  grown  native  to 
him.  He  did  not  even  comment  on  the  fact  that  Slade 
was  living  entirely  in  local  fashion,  the  thing  was  so  ob- 
vious a  course  for  his  friend  to  follow  that  he  took  it  for 
granted.  He  himself  was  a  man  of  like  tastes.  Down  at 
Malla-Nulla  the  menu  had  mostly  smacked  of  Africa; 
but  once  he  had  left  the  Coast,  Mr.  Smith  had  travelled 
as  an  Okky  headman  travels,  living  mainly  on  kanki  and 
couscousoo,  and  for  beverage  partaking  of  sour  palm  wine, 
muddy  bush-water,  and  an  allowance  of  trade  gin  sternly 
cut  down  to  one  square-faced  bottle  per  diem. 

His  only  comment  on  the  place  was  that  Slade's  mos- 
quito bar  was  made  of  a  material  that  they  had  long  ago 
decided  was  faulty,  and  that  a  certain  mark  of  cheese- 
cloth gave  better  passage  to  the  air,  and  was  more  im- 
pervious to  insects.  To  which  Slade  made  reply  that  he 
knew  it,  but  couldn't  be  bothered  to  change,  after  which 
the  cookboy  brought  in  a  calabash  of  odorous,  highly- 
peppered  stew,  colored  bright  orange  with  palm  oil  and 
condiments,  and  set  it  on  the  floor  of  one  of  the  rooms. 
Mr.  Smith  pocketed  his  pipe,  dropped  his  eyeglass  to  the 
end  of  its  black  ribbon,  and  wiped  his  hands  on  his  shabby 
pyjamas,  after  which  simple  preparations  the  pair  of 


148  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

them  sat  down  on  the  earth  beside  the  calabash  and  pro- 
ceeded to  eat  skilfully  from  their  fingers. 

Around  them  were  the  cases  and  bales  of  Slade's  outfit, 
each  done  up  into  a  "  load "  ready  for  a  carrier's  head. 
In  the  other  room  of  the  house  and  in  the  courtyard  were 
the  carriers,,  some  of  them  eating,  some  of  them  cleaning 
their  teeth  with  the  rubbing  stick,  which  all  Coast  natives 
use  incessantly  in  moments  of  leisure,  some  of  them  chat- 
ting. Most  of  them  sat  bareheaded  in  the  staring  sun- 
light; a  few  nestled  in  the  purple  shadows.  One  was 
picking  a  jigger  out  of  his  toe  with  a  splinter  of  bam- 
boo. In  a  spare  corner  another  played  tom-tom  on  the 
bottom  of  an  empty  kerosene-tin  bucket,  and  three  stal- 
warts stood  up  before  him  monotonously  dancing. 

Mr.  Smith  finished  his  meal  and  took  out  his  pipe. 
"  Does  it  run  to  a  peg  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  It  does.  Don't  spoil  my  fine  vintage  port  with  to- 
bacco. You  can  smoke  afterwards.  Here,  boy,  we  fit  for 
gin.- 

"  Gin  lib/'  said  the  Accra  in  attendance,  and  handed 
a  square-faced  bottle  and  a  bowl. 

"  Good.  Now,  when  you  see  dem  Smith  fit  for  smoke, 
you  bring  fire,  one-time.  Savvy?" 

"  I  fit." 

Swizzle- Stick  Smith  moved  back  until  his  shoulders 
rested  against  a  bale,  and  hitched  up  the  knees  of  his 
shrunk  pyjamas  and  stretched  his  arms  pleasurably. 
"  You  travel  in  comfort,  Slade." 

"  The  secret  is,  I  don't  move  along  too  fast.  I've  been 
in  this  village  a  fortnight.  I  don't  know  when  I  shall 
make  up  my  mind  to  pull  out  and  go  on." 

"  Not  till  you've  eaten  it  bare  or  are  forced  off  some 
other  way,  I  suppose.  You're  a  curious  envoy  for  a  con- 
fiding employer  in  Liverpool  to  send  out  into  the  bush." 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  149 

Sla.de  grinned.  "  Old  Godfrey  wouldn't  have  done  it. 
But  this  new  K.  O'Neill  hasn't  seen  my  cutaway  chin. 
K.'s  a  hustler,  but  he's  young,  remarkably  young." 

"Have  you  done  anything  in  the  way  of  getting  him 
a  rubber  property  ?  " 

"Well,  curiously  enough  I  have.  At  least,  I've  bought 
him  up  a  few  square  miles  of  country  that  rubber  vines 
would  grow  on  well  enough  if  it  was  cleared,  and  planted, 
and  tended,  and  no  one  put  ju-ju  on  them." 

"Is  it  get-at-able?" 

"It's  on  some  river  or  other.  The  ditch  isn't  marked 
on  the  map,  but  I  daresay  a  steamer  could  get  up  if  it 
was  worth  while.  The  title's  as  good  as  one  could  expect." 

"  That  means  it  won't  be  jumped  so  long  as  you  pay 
fifty  pounds  a  year  to  the  next  claimant." 

"  I  should  say  five-and-twenty  will  fix  him,"  said  Slade 
lazily.  "  You  see  he's  headman  of  the  next  village  and 
he  thinks  he's  got  some  unproductive  bush  to  sell  him- 
self. I've  rammed  into  his  skull  the  great  truth  that  his 
deal  can't  go  through  if  he  starts  trying  to  jump  his 
neighbor's  land  and  unsteadies  the  market.  I  think  those 
considerations  will  outweigh  even  his  nigger's  love  for 
litigation — "  He  went  on  to  give  listlessly  enough  a  few 
more  details  of  the  transaction. 

Mr.  Smith  was  well-versed  in  the  ways  of  West  African 
diplomacy,  and  could  appreciate  to  a  nicety  all  the  hag- 
gling and  the  patience  and  the  tedious  arguments  that 
had  gone  to  build  up  these  complicated  bargains.  He 
screwed  in  his  eyeglass  and  looked  at  Slade  attentively. 
"  I  wonder,"  he  said,  "  why  you  always  make  yourself  out 
to  be  such  an  infernal  waster?  You  know  you  must  have 
been  doing  some  thundering  good  work.  I  couldn't  have 
put  that  deal  through,  and  I  know  my  West  Africa  as  well 
as  you  do  or  better.  There's  not  one  man  in  five  thousand 
could  have  managed  it.  What's  your  trick?" 


150  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  Oh,  I  found  myself  in  comfortable  quarters,  and  I 
couldn't  make  up  my  mind  to  move  on  and  try  more 
likely  country  elsewhere.  So  I  stayed  and  talked  rubber- 
palaver  with  the  headman.  One  had  to  do  something  for 
amusement.  Besides  they'd  a  tree  of  alligator  pears  in 
the  village  that  were  exactly  ripe,  and  it  would  have  been 
a  crime  to  leave  them  to  benighted  Africans.  By  the 
way,  very  rude  of  me  not  to  ask  before,  but  what  have 
you  done  since  you  left  the  Coast  ?  " 

"Got  into  a  very  ugly  hole,"  said  Swizzle-Stick  Smith 
shortly,  "  and  wriggled  out  of  it  by  the  skin  of  my  teeth." 

"  Rubber-palaver  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Oh,  sorry  for  inquiring.  I  thought  that  was  what  you 
came  up  for  ?  " 

"  So  it  was,  and  I  started  off  from  the  Coast  with  a 
full  intention  of  carrying  out  O'Neill  and  Craven's  busi- 
ness. But  I  got  led  off  on  an  old  trail." 

"Ah,"  said  Slade  thoughtfully.  "I  believe  I  could 
guess." 

"  Guessing's  dangerous.  But  I  may  as  well  own  up  to 
you  frankly  that  I've  been  seeing  the  King  of  Okky." 

"  Well,  you've  a  nerve.  I  shouldn't  have  cared  for  that 
job  myself." 

"  It  wasn't  pleasant.  Okky  City  jars  one's  sense  of 
decency  rather  badly  just  now.  Old  Kallee's  been  going 
it  extra  strong  on  human  sacrifices,  you  know.  His  pri- 
vate crucifixion  tree  is  a  thing  you  don't  like  to  think 
about." 

"  Filthy  old  beast  he  is." 

"But  he's  the  strongest  man  hereabouts." 

"  I  see.  And  you  got  onto  your  old  game  of  the  pre- 
Smith  days  and  tried  to  get  him  to  put  the  Okky  country 
and  his  royal  self  under  the  formal  protectorate  of  the 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK  151 

British  Empire?  I  thought  you  dropped  all  that  tommy- 
rot  when  you  got  kicked — I  mean  when  you  turned  trader 
and  became  known  to  fame  as  Mr.  Smith.  Sink  the  past, 
of  course,  sink  the  past,  but  you  started  it." 

"  I  couldn't  help  going.  I  got  news  of  a  French  ex- 
pedition in  Okky  City.  Of  course  I've  been  damnably 
treated  by  the  British  Foreign  Office  in  days  gone  by,  but 
the  old  fires  will  relight  sometimes.  Frenchmen  in  Okky 
City,  I'll  trouble  you,  Slade,  and  of  course  with  the  usual 
accompaniment.  Timeo  Danaos  et  dona  ferentes.  So  I 
couldn't  resist  trying  my  own  hand  with  the  Kallee,  even 
though  I  hadn't  anything  at  all  up  to  his  weight  as  an 
introductory  dash." 

"Half  a  dozen  cases  of  Heidsieck  is  the  nearest  way 
to  his  royal  ear,  though  I  hear  that  lately  he's  developed 
a  taste  for  the  better  years  of  Krug." 

"  That's  quite  true.  It  was  a  fancy  touch  of  Burgoyne, 
our  Monk  Eiver  man.  I  call  that  hardly  legitimate  busi- 
ness, you  know.  German  champagne  and  angostura  are 
good  enough  for  me,  and  they  ought  to  be  good  enough 
for  a  black  savage  like  Kallee.  Dash  it,  what  right's  he 
to  a  palate?" 

"  Would  he  see  you  ?  " 

"  Well,  of  course  I've  known  him  since  before  he  killed 
his  predecessor  and  got  the  King's  stool,  and  so  he's  a 
bit  freer  with  me  than  he  is  with  most  people." 

Slade  nodded.  "  And  you  drank  together  till  you  were 
both  blind  speechless  ?  " 

"  I  wasn't,  anyway,"  said  the  older  man  shortly.  "  I 
kept  my  head  and  stuck  to  my  tale.  The  Frenchman 
wasn't  in  it.  He  went  to  sleep  before  we  whacked  the 
first  ten  bottles,  and  he  was  laid  up  with  a  fine  dose  of 
fever  next  day;  but  there  was  no  shifting  Kallee.  He 
doesn't  care  an  escribello  for  all  the  might,  majesty,  do- 


152  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

minion  and  power  of  the  British  Empire.  He's  got  ten 
small  cannon  up  there,  that,  according  to  him,  can  quite 
account  for  Great  Britain  if  it  comes  to  worry  him,  and 
in  the  meanwhile  the  French  are  very  kind  friends. 
They've  given  him  a  gramophone,  and  a  general's  uni- 
form, and  an  ice-making  machine,  and  when  they  bring 
him  the  canoe  load  of  Winchester  repeaters  he's  asked  for, 
he'll  sign  a  treaty  of  allegiance  to  France." 

"  Arms  of  precision !  The  Frenchman  had  better  take 
care.  If  any  of  our  Government  fellows  catch  him  at 
that  game,  they'll  shoot  him  first  and  inquire  into  him 
afterwards." 

"  Well,  what  he's  going  to  do  in  the  matter,  I  don't 
exactly  know.  You  see,  the  beggar  had  Kallee's  ear,  and 
to  tell  you  the  plain  truth  he  had  me  deported.  Kallee 
said  that  if  he  laid  hands  on  me  again,  he  would  have 
my  skin  off,  and  stuff  it  with  straw,  and  stick  it  in  the 
road  that  leads  to  Malla-Nulla  as  a  warning  to  the  next 
Englishman  that  came  along  that  it  would  be  more  healthy 
to  keep  inside  his  own  marches." 

Slade  laughed.    "  I  bet  you  footed  it  away." 

"What  the  devil  else  could  I  do?  And  here  am  I,  no 
forwarder  with  O'Neill  and  Craven's  job  than  I  was  the 
day  I  tramped  out  of  Malla-Nulla.  I  did  say  '  Rubber ' 
to  the  King,  and  he  did  hear  out  my  tale.  He  said  it 
was  good  palaver,  and  set  on  a  couple  of  hundred  slaves 
there  and  then  with  matchets  to  clear  bush  and  plant  rub- 
ber vines  to  grow  revenue  for  himself.  But  he  sells  no 
land  to  Englishmen,  and  I  guess  if  another  of  the  breed 
comes  up  yet  awhile,  Kallee'll  plant  him.  By  the  way, 
Slade,  have  you  been  in  touch  with  the  bush  telegraph  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  heard  that  the  usual  vague  rows  and  horribles 
were  going  on  in  Okky  City,  but  I  didn't  pay  much  atten- 
tion to  that.  I  did  hear,  too,  that  Cappie  Image  and  the 


153 

M'poso  helped  a  red-headed  man,  who  I  suppose  was  that 
young  Carter  of  yours,  in  some  sort  of  a  row  at  presum- 
ably Malla-Nulla.  I  took  the  trouble  to  go  into  the  dates ; 
the  news  must  have  travelled  here  in  thirty  hours,  and 
we're  a  good  two  hundred  miles  from  the  Coast.  It  is  a 
bit  marvellous.  I  wonder  how  the  deuce  the  niggers  do 
it.  Some  sort  of  ju-ju,  I  suppose,  but  I  never  met  a  white 
man  yet  who  understood  the  trick." 

"  Did  you  hear  anything  about  a  white  woman  stirring 
things  up  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  I  did,  and  concluded  it  was  Laura.  I  left 
her  in  charge  at  Smooth  Eiver,  you  know,  and  she's  grown 
into  a  jolly  capable  girl,  let  me  tell  you,  old  man,  when 
she  cares  to  spread  herself.  What  are  you  twiddling  about 
your  eyeglass  for  ?  Why  don't  you  say  out  what  you  mean  ? 
Oh,  I  see.  White.  By  gad,  I'd  never  thought  of  that. 
Even  a  bush  telegraph,  which  is  always  liable  to  mistake 
in  detail,  would  never  blunder  into  calling  my  little  girl 
white.  By  gad,  Smith,  what  a  damnable  thing  that  '  sins 
of  the  fathers '  law  is.  If  I  were  a  man  that  ever  looked 
so  much  as  half  a  day  ahead,  I  believe  I  should  go  mad 
at  the  thought  of  what  will  become  of  Laura  in  the  future. 
You're  a  tough  old  ruffian  with  no  cares  and  you  could 
never  understand  what  that  kiddie  is  to  me." 

"No  use  crying  over  a  marriage  that's  over.  Every- 
body that  knows  her  will  do  his  best  for  Laura,  and  if 
any  man  tried  hanky-panky  tricks  with  her  he'd  probably 
die  one  of  the  local  deaths  of  Africa  in  very  quick  time. 
But  about  this  white  woman.  I  heard  about  her,  too. 
There  was  a  big  tom-toming  far  away  in  the  bush  one 
night,  ten  minutes  after  the  sun  went  out,  and  my  boys 
listened  hard  and  then  set  up  a  fine  chatter.  It  was  long 
enough  before  I  could  make  anything  out  of  them,  but 
at  last  I  heard  something  about  '  a  white  mammy '  that 


154  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

set  me  thinking.  I  got  the  idea  at  first  that  someone, 
probably  the  Okky-men,  had  been  knocking  a  she-mission- 
ary on  the  head,  and  that  made  me  cock  up  my  ears.  You 
know  when  a  trader  or  a  man  in  one  of  the  services  gets 
scuppered  out  here,  the  pious  people  at  home  say  it's  his 
own  brutal  fault  and  the  poor  African  is  quite  right  in 
what  he  does.  But  when  it's  a  missionary,  the  Exeter  Hall 
crew  insist  on  war." 

Slade  put  up  the  usual  Coaster's  wish  for  the  future  of 
Exeter  Hall. 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Swizzle-Stick  Smith.  He  got  up  and 
limped  across  to  the  doorway  and  stood  there  for  a  minute 
puffing  pale  blue  smoke  into  the  dazzle  of  sunshine.  Then 
he  came  back  again  and  once  more  sat  on  the  earthen 
floor  with  his  back  against  a  bale.  "  The  boys  out  there, 
both  yours  and  mine,  are  still  harping  on  the  same  sub- 
ject." 

"  I  didn't  make  out  that  the  white  woman  was  killed." 

"Nor  did  I,  when  I  went  into  the  matter  further.  I 
was  only  explaining  what  gave  me  the  first  interest  in  the 
subject,  because  if  there  had  been  a  she-missionary  killed, 
all  the  bush  would  know  that  meant  war,  and  they  would 
slaughter  every  white  man  they  came  across  out  of  sheer 
light-heartedness.  No,  if  that  had  happened,  you  would 
not  have  seen  me  here.  I  should  have  lit  out  for  the 
Coast,  one-time.  But  I  presently  found  that  the  white 
woman  had  not  been  killed,  but  that  she  was  a  someone 
who  seemed  to  puzzle  my  boys  exceedingly.  There  seemed 
to  be  heap-too-much  ju-ju  about  her.  She  did  things  no 
one  else  could  tackle." 

"Sort  of  champion  lady  weight-lifter?  Boy,  fill  Mr. 
Smith's  pipe  and  bring  him  fire." 

"  You  know  that  Kroo  word,  Oomsha,  that  means  Sul- 
tana or  woman-above-a-headman,  or  something  like  that  ?  " 


KATE    MEKEDITH,   FINANCIER  155 

"  I  heard  a  tale  of  an  Oomsha  once  somewhere  up  So- 
koto  way.  She's  been  head  wife  of  an  Emir,  and  when  he 
died  she  killed  all  the  heirs  and  ran  the  town  herself.  I 
thought  it  meant  more  witch  or  conjurer.  It's  a  ju-ju 
word." 

"  Well,  I  won't  quarrel  with  you  over  etymology,  and 
we  seem  to  agree  enough  on  the  definition  for  practical  pur- 
poses. Now,  my  boys  said  that  this  white  woman  was  an 
Oomsha.  Did  you  hear  that  ?  " 

"  Not  I.  I  tell  you  I  thought  it  was  Laura  they  were 
gassing  about,  and  I  didn't  trouble  myself  to  inquire  more 
deeply." 

"  Dash  it,"  said  the  old  man  fiercely,  "  do  rouse  up  and 
interest  yourself  in  something.  What  the  deuce  has  a 
white  sultana  got  to  do  messing  around  the  Coast  fac- 
tories, especially  O'Neill  and  Craven's?  And  let  me  tell 
that's  what's  happening." 

"  Is  the  mythical  lady  setting  everybody  by  the  ears  and 
preparing  for  a  holy  something  ?  " 

"  That's  the  maddening  part  of  it.  They  all  seem  to 
like  her.  She's  stirring  up  everybody,  she's  upsetting  your 
factory  and  mine,  she's  dragged  the  man  with  the  red  head 
in  adoration  to  her  feet  and  then  spurned  him  from  her, 
and  she's  even  captured  the  warm  and  profane  Cappie 
Image  as  one  of  her  servitors." 

"  Poof !  blarney  old  Image !  Now,  that  proves  you've 
got  onto  a  fairy  tale." 

Mr.  Smith  thumped  an  emphatic  fist  on  the  hard  stamped 
floor  beside  him.  "  I  tell  you  I  have  not.  The  bush  tele- 
graph never  lies.  You  may  misunderstand  it,  but  if  you 
take  time  and  trouble,  and  dig  deep  enough,  you'll  always 
come  to  the  truth  of  things.  As  sure  as  we  are  sweating 
in  this  bush  village  here,  there's  a  white  woman  on  the 
Coast  turning  all  the  business  there  upside  down." 


156  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  I've  got  it,"  said  Slade.  K.  O'Neill's  tired  of  having 
all  his  bright  ideas  comfortably  shelved  by  you  and  me, 
and  so  his  new  happy  thought  is  to  send  his  fascinating 
typewriter  out  to  hand  instructions  over  in  person,  and 
wait  till  they're  put  through.  Your  Carter  and  my  Laura 
would  be  just  the  sort  of  enthusiastic  young  people  to  fall 
in  with  a  scheme  like  that.  But  I  must  say  the  conquest 
of  Image  beats  me.  It  would  take  a  heap  more  than  a 
hen  typewriter  to  tame  Cappie  Image-me-lad." 

"  Yes,  I  thought  of  all  that,  but  there's  one  blessed 
thing  that  upsets  it  completely.  The  Oomsha  is  making 
headquarters  at  the  Dutch  factory  at  Mokki,  and  building 
a  fort  there.  Now,  play  on  that." 

"Weather  too  hot,"  said  Slade.  "Whe-ew!  I  wish 
the  breeze  would  come." 

"  Dash  it,  man,  think !  A  white  woman  building  a  fort 
up  at  Mokki." 

"  Sounds  buccaneerish,  or  I'll  tell  you  what,  German." 
Slade  sat  up  with  a  sudden  spurt  of  unaccustomed  energy 
and  ran  the  perspiration  off  his  face  with  a  forefinger. 
"By  gad!  I  didn't  think  of  that,  but  picture  the  joys  of 
having  a  beastly  German  in  at  the  back  of  us,  with  a 
Government  subsidy,  and  a  price-cutting  apparatus  all 
complete." 

"  Yes,"  said  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  grimly,  "  and  also  pic- 
ture to  yourself  the  eminently  British  Captain  Image 
yielding  to  the  soft  blandishments  of  a  German  Frau. 
He'd  as  soon  think  of  making  himself  amiable  to  a  go- 
rilla. No,  that  theory's  wrong.  The  thing  stumps  me, 
and  I'm  sure  if  it's  too  big  for  me,  it's  outside  your 
size." 

"  Quite  so,"  said  Slade,  who  had  dropped  back  into  his 
normal  slackness  after  the  spurt  of  energy.  Then  he 
screwed  up  his  eyes  tightly  as  the  hot  air  was  split  with 
a  succession  of  piercing  yells  and  screeches. 


KATE   MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER  157 

"Good  Lord,  what's  that?"  the  old  man  called  out. 

"  Some  poor  brute  of  a  farmer-,  who's  been  working  on 
his  cassava  ground,  being  pulled  down  by  a  leopard. 
There,  don't  get  up;  you  can't  do  anything.  Don't  you 
hear  he's  quiet  now,  which  means  ' palaver  set'  as  far  as 
the  farmer  is  concerned.  That  will  make  the  rest  of  his 
agricultural  neighbors  careful  for  the  next  twenty-four 
hours,  and  go  to  their  work  in  pairs,  and  take  their  spears. 
At  the  end  of  twenty-four  hours  their  massive  memories 
will  fail  them  and  they'll  stroll  out  alone  just  as  the 
spirit  moves  them,  and  someone  else  will  be  chopped. 
Those  squeals  used  to  make  one  feel  rather  sick  at  first, 
and  one  was  apt  to  get  excited  and  rush  out  with  a  gun. 
But  it  never  did  any  good.  Spotted  Dick  always  prefers 
to  dine  in  privacy  and  drags  his  mutton  back  into  the 
bush.  I  can  imagine,"  Slade  added  with  a  faint  laugh, 
"that  an  energetic  man  who  was  a  bit  of  a  sportsman 
would  find  this  place  pretty  exasperating.  Thanks  to 
these  careless  animals  of  villagers  ground-baiting  the 
creatures  to  the  extent  they  have  done,  there's  the  best 
stocked  leopard-cover  in  Africa  round  here,  but  you  sim- 
ply can't  get  them  up  to  the  gun.  I've  tried  sitting  up 
for  them  over  a  kill,  I've  tried  stalking,  and  always  got 
nothing.  I  risked  a  drive  one  day  and  the  leopard  chopped 
a  couple  of  beaters.  It  would  be  exasperating  to  an  en- 
ergetic man,  but  thank  goodness  I'm  not  that,  and  so  I've 
simply  taken  things  as  they  came." 

"  H'm,"  said  Smith  thoughtfully.  "  When  we  walked  in 
here  I  noticed  I  limped  on  one  side  and  you  limped  on  the 
other.  We  sort  of  jabbed  at  one  another,  in  and  out.  Now, 
limping  is  a  new  accomplishment  for  you.  Have  you  been 
interviewing  a  leopard  personally?" 

Slade's  sallow  face  flushed  a  little.  "Well,  you  see,  a 
son  of  the  headman  here  took  it  into  his  silly  head  to  get 


158  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

in  a  leopard's  way  one  day,  and  I  knew  the  old  chap  was 
awfully  fond  of  the  lad.  So  I  just  retrieved  him,  and  we 
both  got  a  bit  clawed  in  the  process.  But  it  was  purely  a 
matter  of  business  for  K.  O'Neill.  The  old  goat  of  a 
headman  wouldn't  listen  to  any  suggestion  for  buying 
rubber  lands  before.  Dash  it  all,  Smith,  I  am  slack,  I 
know,  but  I  do  try  and  put  in  a  bit  of  work  for  the  firm 
in  return  for  my  pay  sometimes." 


CHAPTER  XI 

AGAIN  PRESENTS   THE  HEAD   OF  THE  FIRM 

"  FIRE'S  the  only  thing  we  have  to  be  frightened  of  for 
the  present,"  said  Carter,  "  and  this  soft,  soggy  wet  tim- 
ber of  which  the  fort  is  built  wouldn't  burn  without  a  lot 
of  persuasion.  Still,  all  the  same  I  wish  I  could  think  of 
something  that  would  make  it  absolutely  fireproof." 

"  The  ancients,"  said  Miss  O'Neill,  "  used  to  cover  their 
works  with  raw  bull's  hide  to  ward  off  fire  arrows.  That 
wise  remark  comes  from  some  school-book,  but  I've  for- 
gotten where.  Laura  can  quote?" 

"  No,"  said  Laura  shortly. 

"Not  having  bulls,"  said  Carter,  "we  can't  have  their 
hide,  but  I'll  just  let  word  ooze  out  that  if  the  Okky-men 
attack,  we'll  skin  those  we  bag  and  nail  up  their  pelts " 

"  Mr.  Carter !  " 

"  "Well,  I  beg  your  pardon  for  being  horrible,  but  I  tell 
you  frankly  that  if  I  thought  for  a  moment  that  a  message 
like  that  would  be  believed,  I'd  send  it  in  a  moment. 
You  know,  Miss  Head,  we're  in  an  uncommon  tight  place, 
and  as  acting  commander-in-chief,  I  tell  you  flatly  it  will 
be  a  case  of  '  all-in '  if  it  comes  to  a  scrap." 

"  Oh,  Missy,  dem  Carter  mean  he  fit  for  use  ju-ju  be- 
sides guns,"  White-Man's-Trouble  explained. 

"  It  couldn't  have  been  put  more  neatly.  We  must  call 
in  even  the  powers  of  darkness,  as  far  as  they'll  answer  to 
a  whistle,  if  it  comes  to  open  fighting.  But  in  the  mean- 
while, as  some  solemn  idiot  said  in  a  text-book,  '  prepared- 


160  KATE    MEBEDITH,    FINANCIER 

ness  for  war  is  the  best  insurance  for  peace,'  and  I  ask  you 
to  observe  this  tramway  which  the  boys  have  laid  down 
during  the  night.  Trouble  here  was  ganger,  and  I've  only 
had  to  bang  him  for  letting  the  guage  spread  in  two 
places." 

"  Is  it  to  show  sightseers  quickly  round  the  works  ? " 
Kate  asked. 

"No,  madam.  I  shall  mount  on  trucks  those  two  tin- 
pot  brass  muzzle-loading  signal  guns  that  you  bamboozled 
out  of  old  Image,  have  embrasures  (if  that's  the  word  for 
holes  to  shoot  through)  at  all  the  corners,  and  I  can  rush 
those  guns  round  to  fire  at  all  points  of  the  compass  at  a 
pace  that  will  surprise  friend  Kwaka,  if  he  is  in  command 
of  the  enemy.  I  am  pleased  to  say  Kwaka  looks  for  the 
supernatural  when  he  is  dealing  with  me,  and  I  make  a 
point  of  conscience  in  seeing  that  he  gets  it.  I  found 
some  sheets  of  yellow  tissue-paper  in  the  feteesh  here,  all 
mottled  with  black  mildew,  and  they  gave  me  an  idea. 
I  cut  out  a  leopard  and  pasted  him  together,  and  left  a 
hole  in  him  underneath,  and  fitted  that  with  a  wire  car- 
rier and  a  cotton  wool  burner  that  will  hold  spirit." 

"  What,  a  fire  balloon  ?  " 

"Just  that.  With  a  dose  of  trade  gin  on  the  cotton 
wool,  and  a  match  and  a  little  careful  manipulation,  we'll 
have  a  portent  sailing  up  into  the  sky  that  will  astonish 
the  Okky-men's  weak  nerves  in  most  disastrous  style." 

"  You  are  really  a  most  ingenious  person,"  said  Miss 
O'Neill.  "  Isn't  he,  Laura  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Laura. 

"It's  that  blessed  Cascaes  that's  the  weak  spot  in  the 
defence.  I  suppose  I've  the  usual  West  Coast  prejudice 
against  Portuguese;  you  know  even  the  natives  divide 
creation  up  into  white  men,  black  men,  and  Portuguese, 
and  the  particular  specimen  we've  taken  over  here  with 
the  factory  just  bristles  with  bad  points." 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK  161 

"  I  think  he's  rather  nice,"  said  Laura.  "  You  were 
fighting  with  him  this  morning  and  I  hated  to  see  it." 

"  Well,"  said  Carter,  judicially,  "  I  shouldn't  define  it 
as  fighting  exactly,  but  I'll  admit,  if  you  like,  that  I  was 
kicking  him.  You  see,  Miss  Head  here  has  given  most 
strict  orders  that  not  more  than  six  strangers  were  ever 
to  be  admitted  into  the  fort  together  at  one  time.  He'd 
fourteen  actually  in  the  feteesh.  Now,  supposing  those 
gallant  fourteen  suddenly  produced  weapons  and  held  the 
gate  whilst  friends  they'd  ambushed  outside  ran  across  the 
clearing  and  rushed  us,  where'd  we  be  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Laura,  "  I'm  sorry  I  interfered  if  it  was 
Kate's  orders  you  were  carrying  out." 

"  So,  Miss  Head,  with  your  permission  I'll  run  up  a 
chimbeque  for  the  fellow  outside  the  walls." 

"  Where  did  you  get  that  word  chimbeque  from  ?  "  Kate 
asked.  "  It's  Fiote,  not  Oil  Eivers  talk." 

Carter's  brown  eyes  twinkled.  "  I  say,  what  a  marvel 
you  are  to  know  things!  I  bet  Laura  didn't  spot  that. 
Why  did  I  use  the  word?  Well,  we  had  a  Portuguee  lin- 
guister  down  at  Malla-Nulla  who  had  worked  in  the  Congo, 
and  he  imported  that  and  a  lot  more  Congolese  words  as 
part  of  his  baggage,  and  we  absorbed  them.  Observe  now. 
Trouble!  I  say,  Trouble,  come  in  here,  and  keep  away 
from  that  sugar  bowl  in  case  you  are  tempted.  Just  stand 
there  by  the  door.  Now,  tell  me.  You  fit  for  savvy  what 
a  chimbeque  is  ?  " 

The  Krooboy's  flat  nose  perceptibly  lifted  with  con- 
tempt. "  Dem  bushman's  word  for  hut.  I  fit  for  learn 
English  on  steamah.  You  can  tell  Missy  I  once  was 
stand-by-at-crane  boy  on  black  funnel  boat.  I  no  say 
chimbeque;  I  say  'house."' 

"  You  fairly  overflow  with  education  at  times.  There, 
run  away  outside,  and  play  again.  So  you  see,  Miss  Head, 


162  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

if  Cascaes  runs  a  sort  of  extra  feteesh  away  out  in  the 
clearing,  he  can't  land  us  into  much  danger  however  care- 
less and  indiscreet  he  may  be.  Of  course  it  will  entail  a 
little  extra  labor  below  in  handling  both  produce  and 
trade  goods,  but  now  we've  got  the  fort  practically  built, 
I've  a  lot  more  boys  I  can  set  free  for  the  ordinary  work. 
Which  reminds  me  that  I  forgot  to  ask  if  this  new  boy 
you've  got  for  butterfly  hunter  is  any  better  than  the 
last?" 

"  I'm  afraid  he  isn't  much.  He  doesn't  tear  the  net  all 
to  bits,  but  he's  rubbed  every  specimen  fatally  before  he 
pinned  it  into  the  collecting  box." 

"  I  was  afraid  there  was  friction.  I  saw  White-Man's- 
Trouble  call  up  that  boy  and  look  into  the  collecting  box 
when  he  thought  I  was  safely  siestaing.  They  had  a  little 
excited  conversation,  and  then  Trouble  grabbed  him  by  a 
handful  of  wool  and  lammed  into  him  with  a  chiquot." 

"  Ugh,"  said  Kate,  "  it  is  very  flattering  to  have  Trou- 
ble's kind  approval,  but  I  do  wish  there  was  not  such  a 
local  popularity  for  the  methods  of — what  shall  I  say?" 

"  Primitive  man.  They  rather  grow  on  one.  Perhaps 
I'm  prejudiced  in  their  favor,  though.  Even  when  I  was 
at  school  I  always  preferred  a  licking  to  an  imposition. 
By  the  way,  you  never  showed  me  the  butterflies  you've 
collected  here  since  you  took  them  out  of  splints  and  pinned 
them  in  their  case." 

"  Then  come  at  once  and  admire,"  said  Kate,  and  the 
pair  of  them  left  the  veranda  and  went  into  the  factory's 
living  room. 

Laura  Slade  looked  after  them  wistfully.  There  was 
something  between  these  two  that  she  could  not  fathom, 
and  vaguely  feared.  At  Smooth  River,  and  on  the  M'poso, 
their  talk  had  been  on  the  chilliest  details  of  business, 
and  only  the  most  bare  civilities  passed  beyond.  It  had 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  163 

seemed  to  her  then  that  at  any  moment  a  word  might 
bring  a  permanent  rupture,  and  she  had  pleaded  with  each 
to  accept  the  other  in  a  more  reasonable  spirit.  She  was 
engaged  to  Carter;  he  kept  reminding  her  of  the  tie  in 
twenty  different  ways  each  day.  She  had  lived  under  the 
aegis  of  the  O'Neill  and  Craven  firm  all  her  life,  and  ex- 
aggerated its  importance,  and  she  begged  Carter  not  to 
throw  away  what  was  his  livelihood  now  and  what  would 
be  hers  when  she  married  him. 

Kate,  too,  was  her  friend,  and  together  they  had  been 
the  closest  of  confidants.  She  had  known  the  secret  of 
the  firm's  "  Mr.  K.  O'Neill "  almost  as  long  as  old  Crewd- 
son  had  known  it,  and  she  had  kept  that  secret  loyally  in 
spite  of  the  keenest  temptation. 

"  Kate,  I  even  kept  it  from  George,"  she  had  said,  and 
Kate  had  replied,  "  George  being  Mr.  Carter,  I  suppose  ?  " 

Up  to  the  time  that  they  left  the  M'poso,  it  seemed  hope- 
less to  bring  them  even  into  the  most  stiff  agreement. 
And  then  the  first  morning  she  woke  up  at  Mokki,  there 
was  Kate  in  a  Madeira  chair  on  the  veranda,  with  George 
Carter  sitting  on  the  rail  beside  her,  and  the  pair  of  them 
were  laughing  and  chatting  as  easily  as  though  they  had 
known  one  another  a  year. 

She  had  never  got  what  she  thought  any  satisfactory 
explanation  of  how  this  relief  of  the  tension  had  been 
brought  about.  She  asked  Carter,  and  he  said  he  had  ar- 
rived at  the  conclusion  he  had  "  merely  been  a  rude  ass," 
and  it  was  time  to  be  ashamed  of  himself  and  try  ordinary 
human  civility.  She  had  attempted  to  sound  Kate,  and 
was  merely  congratulated  on  being  engaged  to  a  really 
nice  man.  And  thereafter  she  had  watched  an  intimacy 
grow  between  them,  in  which  somehow  or  other,  in  spite 
of  their  obviously  labored  efforts  to  include  her,  she  had  no 
part. 


164  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

She  turned  away  from  the  door  now,  and  sat  down  in 
one  of  the  veranda  chairs  which  the  thrifty  German  had 
made  for  himself  out  of  a  palm-oil  puncheon.  Behind  her 
the  white  man  and  the  white  woman  talked  butterflies. 
Before  her  was  Africa,  and  night.  No  moon  had  risen,  a 
few  of  the  stars  were  lit.  Fireflies  blinked  in  and  out 
at  unexpected  places  in  the  velvety  blackness,  uncannily 
vanishing  when  their  spasm  of  light  was  over.  The  night 
breeze  sang  gently  through  the  trees  and  gave  sharpness 
to  the  air,  and  the  drone  of  insects  kept  to  one  low  insist- 
ent note  like  the  distant  murmur  of  the  river.  The  fac- 
tory boys,  tired  with  their  merciless  work,  slept.  But  from 
the  bush  beyond  the  clearing  there  came  ever  and  again 
a  groan,  or  a  roar,  or  a  shriek,  as  often  as  not  dimmed  to 
a  mere  murmur  by  distance,  to  keep  her  aware  of  the 
axiom  that  Africa  never  sleeps  and  always  carries  pain. 

The  land  breeze  blew  strong  and  her  dress  was  thin. 
She  shivered  a  little  and  called  for  Carter,  as  he  had  taught 
her,  to  bring  a  wrap.  He  came  running  out  with  it  at 
once  and  covered  her  shoulders,  as  she  was  pleased  to  think, 
tenderly.  He  even  stopped  and  talked  to  her  for  a  minute 
or  so.  Then  he  said  he  must  go  and  see  Miss  Head's  last 
case,  and  once  more  went  into  the  living  room.  She 
strained  her  ears  to  listen,  and  she  heard  the  butterfly 
talk  begin  again  where  it  had  broken  off. 

They  had  an  alarm  that  night  that  the  Okky-men  were 
coming.  Into  the  blank  silence  of  sleep  there  came  the 
roar  of  a  heavy  charge  of  black  trade  powder  as  a  sentry 
discharged  his  dew-filled  flintlock.  The  whites,  the  Portu- 
guese, and  the  tired  factory  boys  roused  into  instant  wake- 
fulness.  Their  nerves  were  too  nicely  set  to  need  a  second 
shaking. 

Laura  met  Carter  in  pyjamas  as  he  was  in  the  act  of 
thumping  upon  her  bedroom  door.  "  Oh,  you  have  got 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  165 

up,"  he  said.  "  That's  good.  Well,  don't  show  a  light 
whilst  you  dress,  and  keep  under  shelter.  I  must  just  wake 
Miss  O'Neill  before  I  go  down." 

She  put  her  arms  round  his  neck  and  pulled  him  to  her 
and  kissed  him  violently.  "  You  came  for  me  first  then, 
after  all?" 

"You  little  goose,  of  course  I  did.  Wives  first,  em- 
ployers next.  Here,  I  must  go,  or  the  battle  will  be  over 
before  I'm  down.  The  odds  are  those  heroes  are  blazing 
away  at  nothing." 

They  were.  Each  black  man  as  he  came  up  to  the  pal- 
isade poked  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  through  a  loophole, 
pulled  trigger,  and  drew  comfort  from  the  din.  Presently 
Carter  came  up  to  the  breastwork,  climbed  to  the  ban- 
quette, and  leaned  over,  and  then  peered  long  and  hard 
through  the  night.  He  could  see  nothing.  He  got  down, 
and  with  trouble  found  the  sentry  who  had  fired  first. 
When  he  had  thumped  the  man  into  calmness,  it  turned 
out  that  he  had  seen  nothing  also.  He  had  "  thought 
ju-ju  "  and  then  his  gun  "  lib  for  shoot  by  himself."  Or 
in  plainer  English,  the  man  had  dozed  with  his  hand 
round  his  gun  lock  to  keep  the  damp  from  the  priming; 
he  had  been  struck  by  a  nightmare  and  had  pulled  the 
trigger.  He  had  aimed  at  nothing.  His  gun  muzzle  had 
been  upright,  and  he  "lib  for  shoot  dem  moon." 

Cascaes,  the  Portuguese,  came  up  with  a  Winchester 
under  his  arm  in  time  to  hear  the  end  of  this  explanation. 
"  The  negro  like-a  some  noise,  eh,  senhor  ?  " 

"  What  about  yourself  ? "  asked  Carter  uncivilly. 
"Haven't  you  been  joining  in?  I  suppose  you're  first 
cousin  to  these  fellows,  anyway." 

Cascaes  put  a  little  finger  down  the  muzzle  of  his  rifle, 
wiped  it  round,  lit  a  match,  and  showed  that  the  finger 
was  clean. 


166          KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon,"  said  Carter.  "  I  thought  you  were 
likely  to  share  in  the  local  revels." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Portuguese  thoughtfully,  "  I  suppose 
I  must  count  that  an  apology.  Otherwise  I  should  have 
shot  you.  Good-night,  senhor." 

Carter  waited  till  the  man  turned,  ran  in  quickly,  and 
plucked  away  his  rifle.  "  And  now,"  said  he,  "  just  let  us 
understand  one  another  exactly  before  we  go  any  further. 
I'm  standing  quite  all  the  risks  from  outside  that  I've 
any  use  for  just  at  present.  If  there's  any  shooting  to  be 
done  amongst  ourselves,  I  prefer  to  do  it  myself.  So  first 
of  all  let's  hear  your  trouble." 

"  In  the  first-a  place  I  am  not  negro.  I  am  European  of 
blood-a  as  pure  as  your  own,  an'  far-a-more  ancient." 

"  If  the  apology  I  gave  you  just  now  doesn't  cover  that, 
I'll  apologize  some  more  for  calling  you  a  nigger.  Further- 
more, I  didn't  know  that  you  claimed  to  be  a  gentleman, 
not  that  gentility  is  any  excuse  for  not  carrying  out  one's 
job  here  on  the  Coast." 

"  Senhor,  you  are  handsome.  And  I  agree  with  you 
that  here  in  Africa  we  are  all-a  workmen,  and  must  suffer 
if  the  work-a  is  not  well  done." 

"  Well,"  said  Carter  impatiently,  "  is  that  the  lot  ?  To 
my  simple  British  mind  your  reasons  for  wanting  to  shoot 
me  seem  pretty  thin  so  far.  I  suppose  you  are  mad  at 
my  basting  you  this  morning,  but  if  you  think  the  circum- 
stances out  coolly,  I'm  sure  you'll  see  that  we've  women's 
lives  to  think  of  here  as  well  as  our  own,  and  by  letting 
the  niggers  you  were  overseeing  scamp  their  work  whilst 
you  were  dreaming  over  a  cigarette,  you  were  risking  the 
safety  of  the  fort." 

"  Senhor,  do  you  know  of  what-a  I  was  dreaming  ?  " 

"  Private  affairs  probably,  but  anyway  of  something 
immaterial." 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  167 

"  Pardon,  but  I  must  tell-a  you  my  dreaming.  It  was 
of  a  woman's  life  I  dreamed." 

Carter  laughed  shortly.  "  I  think  you  had  better  leave 
it  at  that.  It  sticks  in  my  mind  that  the  three  Portuguese 
ladies  in  this  factory  at  Mokki  are  all  officially  protected 
by  their  lawful  husbands,  and  I  don't  want  to  hear  any 
embarrassing  confidences." 

"  And  may  not  a  Portuguese  gentleman,  poor-a  I  grant 
you,,  but  still  of  good  blood,  give-a  his  affection  to  a  lady 
of  another  race  ?  " 

A  moon  had  lit  up  in  the  sky  above,  and  under  it  Carter's 
jaw  looked  of  a  sudden  more  square  and  grim  than  usual 
— at  least  the  other  thought  so.  His  tone,  too,  changed 
from  banter  to  something  hard.  "  I  decline  to  hear  an- 
other word  on  the  matter.  We  will  confine  our  dealings 
with  one  another  entirely  to  details  of  business,  if  you 
please,  Cascaes,  and  leave  matters  of  sentiment  alone. 
Here  is  your  gun.  You  say  you  are  a  gentleman,  and  I 
believe  you.  That  means  you  won't  shoot  me  from  be- 
hind, or  when  I'm  not  armed  equally  with  yourself.  If 
the  necessity  arrives  for  a  turn-up  on  level  terms,  I'm  your 
man.  Good-night." 

And  so  for  that  night  they  parted,  each  very  much  mis- 
understanding the  other.  Once  more  the  tired  sentries 
yawned  at  their  posts,  and  the  Europeans  of  the  factory 
retired  to  their  beds,  and  the  blacks  to  their  sleeping  mats ; 
but  sleep  for  the  rest  of  that  hot,  damp  night  was  broken, 
and  no  half-hour  passed  without  a  cry  from  some  dreamer 
which  woke  restless  echoes  from  his  neighbors. 

But  with  daylight  the  steady  stream  of  merchandise, 
which  the  factory  was  beginning  to  attract,  recommenced. 
The  native  traders  of  the  hinterland  had  their  hands  full 
of  the  stock  that  had  been  pouring  in  upon  them  ever 
since  the  King  of  Okky  had  closed  the  roads  to  the  old 
Coast  factories  with  which  they  were  accustomed  to  deal, 


168  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

and  when  the  news  spread,  as  it  does  spread  in  that  mys- 
terious West  Africa,  that  the  white  woman  of  Mokki 
bought  and  sold  in  spite  of  the  King's  teeth,  they  were 
only  too  ready  to  back  her  with  their  custom.  The  mer- 
chants of  that  unknown  back  country  are  some  of  the  keen- 
est traders  on  earth. 

Some  came  in  single  canoes  through  the  gloom  and 
odors  of  uncharted  muddy  creeks,  trusting  to  secrecy  for 
safe  passage;  others  joined  forces,  and  brought  armed 
flotillas  of  great  sixty-man-power  dugouts  down  the  main 
stream;  others  clubbed  together  into  caravans,  so  strong 
and  so  well-defended  that  even  Kallee's  truculent  raiders 
dared  not  cross  the  Okky  marches  to  hold  them  up.  So 
marvellously  accurate  were  the  rumors  that  had  spread 
up  country,  that  few  of  these  keen  merchants  came  into 
Mokki  without  a  grass  basket  full  of  spoiled  specimens  of 
butterfly  as  a  "  dash  "  to  propitiate  the  new  trading  power. 

Every  day  the  influx  of  merchants  increased,  till  at  last 
more  came  than  the  staff  of  the  factory  could  deal  with, 
and  they  camped  outside  the  fort  awaiting  their  turn  to 
trade.  Actually,  a  small  native  food  market  grew  there  to 
supply  them.  Kate  had  lowered  the  price  the  factory  paid 
for  every  commodity,  but  still  the  bush  merchants  sold,  and 
were  only  too  glad  of  the  chance.  Times  they  felt  were 
troublous;  the  shadow  of  the  King  of  Okky  hung  over  the 
steaming  forests,  and  they  wished  to  get  what  they  could 
in  European  produce  and  be  gone.  At  the  Malla-Nulla, 
the  Monk,  or  the  Smooth  River  factories  they  would  not 
have  taken  such  prices;  but  the  King  of  Okky  had  closed 
the  roads  to  these,  and  for  business  purposes  they  were 
extinct.  Nor  would  they  have  sold  at  such  rates  to  the 
Germans  when  they  held  Mokki.  Keen  business  man 
though  he  may  be,  the  West  African  merchant  is  a  crea- 
ture of  whim ;  the  German  he  defines  as  a  "  bush-English- 
man," which  is  a  term  of  reproach;  he  distrusts  both  him 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  169 

and  his  goods;  and  he  will  not  trade  with  a  German  fac- 
tory on  anything  like  the  same  terms  he  will  accept  from 
the  Briton,  even  though  the  Briton  sell  him  German-made 
goods. 

"  We  are  doing  such  a  tremendous  business,"  said  Carter 
one  day  at  the  evening  meal,  "  that  presently  we  shall 
strangle  ourselves.  We  have  used  up  all  our  own  trade 
stuff,  and  we  have  stripped  the  Smooth  River  factory  and 
Malla-Nulla,  and  pretty  well  emptied  Burgoyne  at  Monk 
River.  I  don't  know  how  finances  are  ?  " 

"  Tight,"  said  Kate. 

"  And  yet  we've  got  at  the  very  least  £8,500  in  kernels, 
palm  oil,  and  high-grade  rubber  lying  idle  here.  More- 
over, we've  tapped  an  unexpected  vein  of  ivory.  I  thought 
at  first  that  it  was  some  small  king's  state  reserve,  some 
hoard  he'd  got  buried,  under  the  bed  of  a  stream  perhaps, 
which  he  wanted  to  realize  on,  and  which  would  soon 
come  to  an  end.  But  it's  not  that,  it's  new  stuff  that's 
been  hunted  within  the  last  three  years,  and  it's  been  di- 
verted, I  really  believe,  from  the  Congo  market.  It's  a 
splendid  line  for  us,  but  it  will  pinch  out  very  promptly 
if  we  once  stop  buying.  I  verily  believe  these  natives  can 
telegraph  a  piece  of  commercial  news  half-way  across 
Africa  in  the  inside  of  a  week." 

"We  are  doing  splendid  business. 

"  Of  course,  we've  got  the  firm's  Miss  K.  O'Neill  here 
on  the  spot,  and  hence  the  prosperity;  but  I  wish  we'd 
got  our  Miss  K.  for  just  half  a  day  at  the  Liverpool  end 
to  diagnose  that  we're  starving  for  a  steamer.  The  fact  is, 
that  greedy  old  scoundrel  Cappie  Image-me-lad  looks 
upon  Mokki  as  his  special  private  preserve,  and  he  doesn't 
intend  to  see  any  of  the  other  skippers  picking  up  Ms 
cargo  commission  if  he  can  avoid  it." 

"  Do  you  blame  him  ?  "  said  Kate.  "  I  don't.  But  at 
the  same  time  I'm  afraid  Mokki  factory  can't  wait  each 


170  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

time  till  Captain  Image  brings  the  M'poso  on  her  round 
trips  from  Liverpool.  However,  I  sent  a  canoe  off  this 
morning  with  a  long  cable  which  may  ease  matters." 

"  You  sent  off  a  canoe  ?  I  don't  know  how  I  shall  get 
on  without  her  crew." 

"  Oh,  I  remembered  how  shorthanded  you  are,  Mr.  Man- 
ager, but  I've  not  piled  more  work  onto  you  this  time. 
You  recollect  that  tall  Hausa  merchant  with  the  one  eye 
who  has  been  here  for  the  last  two  days  ?  " 

"Yes,  Rotata." 

"  I  gave  him  the  cable,  and  an  order  on  Mr.  Burgoyne 
for  £15,  to  be  paid  on  delivery.  Will  you  O.K.  the  ac- 
count?" 

"  I  guess,"  said  Carter  shortly,  "  that  you  are  boss.  But 
if  you'd  told  me  you  wanted  to  send  a  cable,  I  could  have 
arranged  it  for  you." 

Kate  looked  at  him  steadily.  "  Why  do  you  object  to 
my  working  for  myself,  Mr.  Carter  ?  " 

"Because  I  prefer  to  work  for  you.  I'd  work  myself 
to  the  bone  for  you,  if  you'd  let  me." 

"Why  should  you?"* 

"Because  I — well,  it's  natural  enough,  isn't  it?  If  you 
come  to  think  of  it,  I  am  your  paid  employee." 

Kate  still  looked  at  him  with  a  steady  eye.  "  Of  course 
it  is  Laura  that  you  are  really  working  for." 

Carter  cleared  his  throat.  "  Of  course,"  he  said.  "  Well, 
if  you  and  Laura  will  excuse  me,  I'll  go  into  the  other 
room  now  and  post  up  my  books."  He  got  up  and  walked 
towards  the  mess-room  door. 

Cascaes,  who  had  been  sitting  at  the  other  end  of  the 
table  with  the  Portuguese  and  their  wives,  got  up,  and 
went  towards  the  vacant  place.  But  Carter  turned  at  the 
door  and  called  him  sharply.  "  I'm  sorry  to  interrupt 
further,"  he  said,  "but  I  want  your  valuable  assistance, 
Mr.  Cascaes.  So  come  along  with  me  now." 


CHAPTER   XII 

EXHIBITS    ANTISEPTICS 

THE  night  was  hot,  and  steamy,  and  still.  Even  the 
insect  hum  was  pitched  on  a  drowsy  note.  The  darkness 
seemed  almost  fat  in  its  greasy  heaviness.  Two  of  the 
sweating  factory  boys  were  playing  tom-tom  on  upturned 
kerosene  cans,  and  a  third  was  throwing  in  an  erratic  ob- 
ligato  with  two  pieces  of  scrap  iron  for  an  instrument. 
And  from  the  river  behind  a  pair  of  crocodiles  made  un- 
pleasant noises  with  irritating  persistency.  Carter  thought, 
too,  that  above  the  decay  smell  of  the  factory  rubber  store, 
the  stable  smell  of  the  Krooboys,  the  crushed-marigold 
smell  of  the  river,  he  could  also  catch  the  musky  odor  of 
the  crocodiles,  and  felt  vaguely  sickened  thereby. 

" .  .  .  Those  last-a  bags  of  kernels  I  have  not  got-a 
weighed,  senhor.  I  was  weary,  and  so  I  go-a  to  change 
and  shave  for  dinner." 

"  Why  don't  you  shave  in  the  morning,  instead  of  carry- 
ing a  chin  like  a  besom  all  through  the  day?  I  suppose, 
as  usual,  you  were  going  to  weigh  up  those  kernels  to- 
morrow ?  " 

"You  are  most  indulgent,  senhor." 

"  I  am  nothing  of  the  kind.  Sufficient  for  the  day  is 
the  work  thereof,  and  the  man  that  puts  it  off  till  to- 
morrow gets  out  of  here.  Like  to  hand  in  your  resigna- 
tion?" 

"No,  senhor,  no." 

"Then  go  and  weigh  those  kernels,  one-time.     Then 


172  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

come  back  here  and  make  up  your  books.  D'ye  think  I'm 
going  to  have  my  whole  machinery  of  commerce  held  up 
because  you  want  to  go  and  shave,  and  oil  your  head,  and 
put  on  clean  whites  and  a  crimson  belly-band  and  other- 
wise make  yourself  fetching  for  the  benefit  of  Miss 
O'Neill?" 

"  Miss-a  O'Neill  ?  "  said  the  Portuguese  in  surprise.  "  I 
do  not  care  a  banana-skin " 

"  Here,  don't  try  and  fill  me  up,"  said  Carter  bluntly. 
"And  don't  put  on  time.  Take  a  lamp  and  go  out  and 
weigh  those  kernels,  and  see  you  don't  set  the  shed  on  fire, 
and  when  you're  through,  and  have  posted  your  books, 
come  out  and  fetch  me.  I'm  going  to  smoke  a  cigar  out  in 
the  open." 

"  The  dew-a  is  heavy.    There  is  fever  about." 

"  Take  your  advice  to  the  devil." 

"Which  fever,"  said  Cascaes,  "I  should  have  added, 
if  you  had-a  not  interrupted  me — which  fever  I  hope  you 
will  get." 

"  That's  all  right.  I  like  you  dagos  better  when  you 
spit  venom  openly.  Now,  you  hurry  up  and  go  through 
those  kernels,  and  see  you  get  the  weights  right." 

The  dew  was  thick  on  the  grass  in  the  clearing  and 
stood  in  sleek  greasy  drops  on  all  the  patches  of  bare 
stamped  earth.  Moon  and  stars  were  all  eclipsed.  Even 
the  fireflies,  although  the  dark  would  have  given  full  value 
to  their  manoeuvres,  were  absent.  The  unhealthy  phos- 
phorence  of  rotting  dead  wood  here  and  thr-e  was  the  only 
illumination,  except  here  and  there  a  glow  from  a  window 
in  the  factory. 

Carter  went  out  through  a  gate  of  the  fort  and  walked 
up  and  down  with  restless  energy.  He  was  wet  to  the 
knees  with  dew;  the  damp  Canary  cigar  between  his  teeth 
had  long  since  gone  out;  but  he  cared  for  no  small 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER  173 

things  like  these.  He  kept  repeating  to  himself  that  "a 
man  must  play  the  game."  "  A  man  must  play  the  game." 

And  presently,  when  the  tom-toms  and  the  jangling  iron 
suggested  some  tune  to  his  ear,  he  changed  this  to  a"  jangle 
which  stated  "  I  could — not  love — thee  dear — so  much — 
loved  I — not  hon — or  more."  And  as  the  tune  beat  out 
into  the  hot  steamy  night,  so  did  the  words  keep  time  to 
them  with  irritating  repetition. 

Once  he  stopped  and  shook  a  fist  at  the  invisible  sky 
above.  "  I  am  going  to  marry  Laura,"  he  declared,  "  if 
she  was  ten  times  as  black.  I  am  going  to  marry  her 
though  I  know  my  father  will  never  speak  to  me  again, 
and  I  can't  take  her  home.  I  am  going  to  marry  her 
though  the  heaven's  fall.  I  am  going  to  marry  her  for 
one  reason  that  can't  be  got  over,  and  that  is  because  I 
said  I  would.  A  man  must  play  the  game.  But  my  God ! 
why  did  I  never  guess  that  Kate  was  on  earth  some- 
where ?  " 

There  was  an  old  cotton-wood  stump  in  the  clearing, 
and  he  stood  against  it  so  thoughtful  and  still  that  he 
became  the  object  of  attention  of  bats.  He  hit  at  them 
angrily  and  recommenced  his  prowl. 

Hour  after  hour  he  tramped  through  the  dripping  grass, 
biting  against  fate.  Cascaes,  who  did  not  work  unless  he 
was  driven,  had  long  since  checked  his  tally  of  kernels, 
and  gone  to  bed.  The  factory  lamps  had  one  by  one  gone 
out.  The  night  noises  of  the  forest  that  hemmed  them  in 
were  in  full  swing.  His  thin  clothes  were  sodden  with 
the  damp,  and  by  every  law  of  Africa  he  was  gathering 
unto  himself  the  seeds  of  disease.  But  still  he  tramped  on, 
in  and  out  amongst  the  huts  and  litter,  wrestling  with  his 
misery. 

The  thing  which  in  the  end  lifted  him  out  of  this  un- 
healthy pit  of  self-pity  was  commonplace  enough  in  its 


174  KATE    MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

way.  As  he  was  passing  a  small  rude  shelter  of  boughs 
and  thatch,  there  came  to  his  ears  a  very  unmistakable 
human  groan. 

It  was  a  temporary  hut  run  up  by  some  trader  who  was 
waiting  his  turn  to  do  business  at  the  factory,  and  the 
groan  was  of  that  timbre  which  told  that  it  was  wrenched 
from  a  strong  man  by  deadly  pain.  At  another  time  Car- 
ter would  probably  have  passed  on.  One  grows  callous  to 
suffering  in  West  Africa,  and  to  interfere  with  a  sick  na- 
tive seldom  brings  thanks  and  very  frequently  produces 
complications.  But  something  just  then  moved  him  to 
play  the  Samaritan. 

He  put  his  head  through  the  entrance  and  peered  into 
the  darkness.  "  Well/'  he  said,  "  who's  here,  and  what's 
the  matter  ?  " 

A  voice  replied  in  stately  Hausa,  "  0,  Effendi,  I  am 
close  upon  death,  and  it  is  hard  to  die  far  from  one's  own 
lands  and  people." 

"  Let's  have  a  look  at  you,"  said  Carter,  in  what  he  knew 
of  the  same  tongue,  eked  out  with  Kroo  and  Okky.  He 
scraped  a  damp  and  reluctant  match.  "  Holy  Christopher ! 
What  have  you  been  doing  to  your  thigh  ?  " 

"  As  I  marched  along  the  road  to  here,  a  leopard  sprang 
and  seized  me,  but  the  men  that  were  with  me  speared  him, 
and  so  I  escaped  with  my  life.  They  made  a  litter,  and 
on  it  carried  me  to  this  place.  And  here  they  left  me  in 
the  hands  of  Allah,  whilst  they  followed  up  their  own 
private  affairs." 

"  But,  man,  the  wound's  alive.  Why  didn't  you  have  it 
dressed  ?  " 

"  It  was  written  that  the  wound  should  be  as  it  is." 

"Rot.  You  stay  here  another  ten  minutes  or  so  till  I 
get  the  tackle,  and  then  I  will  clean  it  out  for  you." 

"Effendi,  it  is  written  that  Allah  sent  the  things  that 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  175 

are  in  the  wound,  and  with  due  submission  I  will  not  have 
them  touched." 

"  Hum/'  said  Carter,  "  now  this  requires  argument. 
You  savvy  Constantinople  ?  I  mean  I'Stamboul  ?  " 

"There  lives  the  Kaleef,  the  chief  of  the  Faithful  of 
Islam." 

"  You've  got  it  in  once.  Now,  are  you  keeping  yourself 
posted  in  the  Sultan's — that  is  the  Kaleef's  latest  readings 
of  the  Koran  ?  You  are  not.  I  can  see  you  have  let  your- 
self get  thoroughly  behind  the  times.  What's  your  name  ?  " 

"AlibenHossein." 

"Well,  Ali,  I  know  what's  the  matter  with  you  spir- 
itually. You've  been  thinking  too  much  of  the  things  of 
this  life — fighting,  trading  and  so  on.  You've  spread  your 
mat  and  faced  Mecca,  and  said  your  daily  prayer  in  a 
formal  sort  of  way,  but  you've  been  neglecting  the  moolah. 
You  have  been  lax  in  your  attendance  at  mosque,  and  for 
a  fiver  you  aren't  half  the  man  at  the  Koran  you  used  to 
be." 

"  The  Effendi  is  very  wise." 

"  I  am.    I  can't  help  it." 

"  He  has  hit  upon  this  Believer's  sin." 

"  Dead  on  the  spot.  So  now  let's  get  to  the  point.  In 
your  ignorance,  you  believe  that  Allah  sent  all  those  crawl- 
ing horrors  that  are  in  your  wound  ?  " 

"  For  His  own  wise  purposes  He  sent  them.  Allah  can 
do  no  wrong." 

"  You  are  mixing  up  theological  facts.  Allah  can  do  no 
wrong.  But  what  about  Sheitan  ?  " 

"  I  spit  upon  his  name,  0  Effendi,"  said  Ali  ben  Hos- 
sein,  and  did  it. 

"  Hear  now  then  the  pronouncement  of  the  Kaleef  Ab- 
dul Hamed  of  I'Stamboul.  The  unclean  things  that  haunt 
the  wounds  of  the  Faithful  are  no  longer  sent  by  Allah 


176  KATE   MEKEDITH,   FINANCIER 

as  a  test  of  Faith.  They  are  sent  now  by  Sheitan  as  a 
torment  to  True  Believers,  and  as  an  antidote,,  the  Prophet, 
through  the  Kaleef,  has  sent  a  liquid  of  his  own  devising, 
of  which  by  a  happy  chance  I  have  a  portion  in  the  fac- 
tory." 

"  Is  it  green  in  color  ?  " 

"  Green  as  the  skirts  of  the  houris  of  Paradise,"  said 
Carter,  and  thanked  heaven  for  a  small  parcel  of  aniline 
dyes  (^reen  amongst  them)  which  had  been  sent  by  an  en- 
terprising Bradford  dyeware  merchant,  to  the  order  of  a 
dyer  in  far  off  Kano. 

"  Then,"  said  Ali  ben  Hossein  simply,  "  if  you,  0  Ef- 
fendi,  can  relieve  me  from  the  torments  of  Sheitan,  from 
which  I  am  suffering,  I  and  my  sons  will  remember  your 
name  in  the  fullest  gratitude.  Have  you  the  holy  liquid 
here?" 

"  Not  in  my  pocket,  0  Ali  ben  Hossein,  for  I  am  not  a 
djinn.  But  there  is  a  medicine  chest  up  at  the  factory, 
and  within  it  is  a  bottle  of  crystal,  blue  in  color,  in  which 
are  tabloids  which  bear  the  giaour  name  of  perchloride  of 
mercury.  They  and  the  aniline  green  may  take  a  bit  of 
finding,  but  presently  when  I've  got  a  solution  made,  and 
tinted  to  a  True  Believer's  taste,  I  will  return  here  and 
work  upon  you  that  cure  of  which  I  am  sure  that  the 
Kaleef  Abdul  would  approve  if  he'd  a  thigh  as  bad  as 
yours,  and  had  ever  heard  of  an  antiseptic  dressing.  So 
see  to  it  that  you  don't  slip  through  the  gates  of  Paradise 
whilst  I  am  gone.  D'you  understand?  The  houris  won't 
look  twice  at  a  Hausa  with  a  leg  as  worm-eaten  as  yours." 

Now,  Carter  gathered  from  a  casual  inspection  by  two 
damp  matches  that  ben  Hossein's  thigh  was  pretty  bad, 
but  he  had  not  made  allowance  for  the  toughness  of  a 
water-drinking,  spare-eating  Moslem.  When  he  came  back 
with  a  parrafin  lamp,  followed  by  White-Man's-Trouble, 


177 

who  carried  a  bowl  of  warm  water  and  other  things,  and 
commenced  his  amateur  surgery,  he  was  amazed,  and  he 
was  sickened.  Like  most  traders  in  the  West  Coast  fac- 
tories, he  had  acquired  through  almost  daily  practice  a 
certain  deftness  in  cleansing  and  repairing  wounds;  but 
here  in  the  thigh  of  this  great  muscular  Hausa  was  a 
grid  of  gashes  whose  untended  horrors  went  far  beyond 
all  his  previous  experience. 

The  fact  that  the  man  had  not  bled  to  death,  or  died 
of  shock  at  the  first  impact,  and  the  further  fact  that  he 
had  withstood  the  attacks  of  all  the  abominable  live  things 
that  preyed  thereafter  upon  his  open  flesh,  were  a  won- 
derful testimonial  to  his  constitutional  toughness ;  and  the 
detail  that  in  spite  of  his  fortitude  he  went  clammy  and 
limp  when  Carter  commenced  dressing  the  wounds,  was 
only  what  could  be  expected.  But  it  seemed  that  five  days 
had  elapsed  since  the  man  had  been  brought  in  and  left, 
and  during  that  time  the  other  merchants  outside  the  fort, 
with  the  ordinary  callousness  of  Africans  for  one  another, 
had  neither  brought  him  food  nor  reported  his  calamity. 
On  the  other  hand,  they  had  stolen  his  goods  and  gone 
their  ways,  otherwise  non-interferent.  And  as  a  conse- 
quence the  man  was  three  parts  starved  when  Carter  found 
him  and  had  his  vitality  perilously  lowered. 

Carter  had,  perhaps,  as  has  been  stated,  much  of  the 
West  Coast  trader's  callousness  for  the  native,  but  he  cer- 
tainly had  all  of  the  surgeon's  interest  in  a  patient.  After 
he  had  dressed  the  wounds  he  tried  his  best  to  bring 
his  patient  back  to  consciousness,  and  then  for  the  first 
time  only  did  he  realize  how  near  to  the  Borderland  the 
man  had  crept.  He  sent  White-Man's-Trouble  flying  this 
way  and  that  on  his  errands,  and  with  all  the  limited 
knowledge  in  his  power  fought  Death  for  the  Hausa's  life 
till  the  fatal  hour  of  dawn  was  well  past. 


178  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

And  so  lie  was  found  by  Miss  O'Neill  at  5  A.M.,  white, 
shaken  and  black-eyed,  attired  in  stained  and  sodden 
clothes,  squatting  in  a  miserable  hutch  that  reeked  of  iodo- 
form,  and  welcoming  with  joy  Ali  ben  Hossein's  ungracious 
return  to  a  world  he  had  so  nearly  left. 

Miss  O'Neill  regarded  him  for  awhile  with  a  pinched 
lip,  and  then  "  I  think  you  are  perfectly  disgraceful,"  said 
she.  "  At  least  you  might  have  let  me  know  what  you 
were  doing,  so  that  I  could  have  come  to  help  part  of  the 
time." 

Carter  blinked  at  her  for  a  moment  with  tired  brown 
eyes  and  then  pulled  himself  together.  "  I  beg  your  par- 
don for  not  doing  as  you  wished.  But  I  didn't  know  that 
you  were  interested  in  niggers,  if  there  was  no  chance  of 
making  a  dividend  out  of  them.  I  rather  looked  upon 
this  as  an  out-of-office-hours  job;  as  a  piece  of  private 
amusement  of  my  own,  in  fact,  and  so  I  did  not  dare  to 
repeat  it." 

"  Well,"  said  Kate,  seating  herself  beside  the  sick  man, 
"  perhaps  I  was  hateful  to  you  after  supper,  indeed  I'll 
admit  that  I  was.  But  you  are  being  far  more  hateful  to 
me  now,  and  as  that  should  tickle  your  vanity  as  a  man, 
perhaps  you'll  be  generous  enough  to  call  it  quits.  Trouble, 
will  you  kindly  take  Mr.  Carter  back  to  the  factory  and 
give  him  a  large  dose  of  quinine  and  all  the  hot,  scalding 
tea  he  will  drink,  and  then  put  him  to  bed,  and  see  to  it 
that  there  are  no  insects  inside  his  mosquito  bar." 

"  I  fit,"  said  the  Krooboy.  "  An'  I  got  bottle  of  White 
man's  medicine  dat  I  pinch  from  dem  Cappie  Image.  I 
give  dem  Carter  a  drink  of  him." 

"  You  will  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  Dem  Cappie  Image 
patent  medicine  plenty  bad  ju-ju  for  Mr.  Carter.  So  you 
will  do  exactly  as  I  ordered  you.  Ah,  and  here's  Laura. 
Now,  my  dear,  if  you  don't  want  the  man  to  whom  you're 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  179 

engaged  to  die  before  you  marry  him,  you'd  better  look 
after  him  and  his  health  very  narrowly.  There,  get  away 
out  of  this,  the  pair  of  you,  and  make  up  your  silly  quar- 
rel, whatever  it  may  be." 

"But,  Kate,  George  and  I  have  no  quarrel.  Why,  it 
was  you " 

"  If  you  haven't  a'  quarrel,  my  dear,  invent  one,  if  it's 
only  for  the  amusement  of  making  it  up.  I'm  told  it's 
one  of  the  chief  luxuries  of  an  engagement.  Now,  please 
go,  or  you'll  disturb  Hossein.  Hossein's  the  man  who 
wants  attention  here,  and  I  can't  have  you  bothering  about 
the  place  till  he's  better." 

Hossein  was  in  fact  the  lucky  man.  Miss  O'Neill,  for 
reasons  best  known  to  herself,  nursed  him  in  person; 
Carter  retained  his  interest  as  original  discoverer;  White- 
Man's-Trouble  fussed  round  him  because  it  was  the  popu- 
lar thing  to  do,  and  Laura  was  also  diligent  in  her 
attendance  on  the  sick  room  for  reasons  well-known  to 
herself. 

But  Ali  ben  Hossein  had  all  a  Moslem  gentleman's  diffi- 
dence with  women,  and  he  said  little  enough  to  either 
Laura  or  Kate;  the  Krooboy  was  his  caste  inferior,  and 
he  spoke  to  him  only  to  give  curt  orders;  and  it  was  to 
Carter  alone  that  he  was  communicative. 

His  native  tongue  was  Haiisa,  of  course,  but  he  had 
been  a  trader  all  his  life,  and  that  in  West  Africa  entails 
a  knowledge  of  languages.  Carter  knew  little  enough  of 
Hausa,  but  he  was  handy  with  Okky  and  sound  on  Kroo, 
and  so  when  one  vocabulary  failed  him,  he  passed  on  to 
another,  and  was  generally  understood.  Thus,  by  very 
rapid  degrees  an  intimacy  grew  between  them,  to  as  far 
an  extent  as  the  color  barrier  would  permit. 

They  talked  on  weapons  and  they  talked  on  war;  they 
talked  of  sport  as  each  of  them  understood  it;  they  talked 


180  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

on  horse-breeding  as  it  was  practised  in  Kano  and  Sokoto, 
and  also  of  horse-breeding  as  it  was  carried  on  in  the 
Craven  district  and  the  Yorkshire  dales. 

Carter  tried  without  any  success  whatever  to  make  Hos- 
sein  understand  the  humor  of  the  battle  of  the  roses  as 
it  was  waged  between  his  father  and  mother  in  the  York- 
shire vicarage;  the  Hausa  in  his  turn  gave  the  light  side 
of  a  slave-hunting  raid,  and  made  Carter's  flesh  creep. 

They  had  abundant  interests  in  common,  too,  in  the 
romance  of  commerce,  and  discussed  regretfully  the  decay 
of  ivory  and  the  sensational  rise  of  rubber.  Carter  as  the 
paid  servant  of  O'Neill  and  Craven  tried  to  hear  of  rub- 
ber lands  which  could  be  bought  and  resold  to  an  English 
company,  but  Ali  ben  Hossein  was  emphatic  in  his  refusal 
to  help  a  white  immigration  onto  the  acres  of  his  father- 
land. 

"  Let  us  talk  as  traders,  oh  Effendi.  Do  not  ask  me 
to  be  the  traitor  who  will  make  smooth  the  path  for  the 
invader.  And  for  the  present  I  bid  you  to  consider  this 
shortage  in  the  supply  of  pink  kola  nuts.  Now,  the  white 
kola  nuts,  which  have  not  that  dryness  which  is  demanded 
by  the  palates  of  the  Western  Soudan,  we  can  get  from 
Lagos  and  the  Coast  factories  in  larger  quantities  than 
ever.  But  the  growers  declare  the  crop  of  pink  nuts  to  be 
practically  a  failure  this  year,  and  therein  I  say  they  lie." 

And  so  on,  with  matter  which  had  too  technical  a  flavor 
to  carry  general  interest. 

Now,  the  leopard  had  clawed  Ali  ben  Hossein's  thigh 
grievously,  and  the  subsequent  neglect  of  the  wound  had 
been  abominable,  but  the  man  had  been  a  clean  liver  and 
his  toughness  was  great.  In  ten  days  he  could  hobble, 
and  in  a  fortnight  announced  his  departure. 

"  I  am  a  merchant  without  merchandise,  Effendi,  and 
must  needs  be  back  about  my  affairs.  If  I  do  not  gather 
them  into  my  hands  again  another  will." 


KATE    MEREDITH,   FINANCIER  181 

"I'd  stand  you  tick  to  the  extent  of  a  dozen  loads  of 
goods  if  I  had  'em,"  said  Carter  cordially,  "  but  as  you've 
seen  for  yourself,  the  factory's  cleaned  out.  And  Allah 
knows  when  the  next  steamer  will  drive  in." 

"  May  your  tribe  increase,  Effendi.  I  have  had  too  much 
at  your  hands  already.  But  though  no  money  may  pass 
over  what  you  have  done,  yet  I  ask  you  to  accept  a  gift, 
that  is  a  mere  token." 

It  was  a  piece  of  gray  stone  which  sprouted  with  rich 
brown  crystals.  It  was  shaped  like  a  squat  duck,  some  inch 
and  a  half  long,  and  Ali  ben  Hossein  wore  it  alongside 
the  little  leather  parcel  which  held  a  verse  of  the  Koran 
and  hung  by  a  thong  from  his  neck. 

"  0  Effendi,  you  are  young,  and  that  will  bring  you 
pleasure  more  than  could  be  bought  with  ten  quills  of 
gold.  Wear  that,  and  your  grief  will  fade." 

"  Poof !  "  said  Carter,  "  I've  no  griefs." 

Ali  ben  Hossein  waved  aside  the  statement  with  a  long 
slim  hand,  the  hand  of  the  Hausa  swordsman  for  whose 
narrow  grip  Central  African  armorers  make  sword  hilts 
that  no  grown  Englishman  can  use.  "  0  Effendi,  my  sick- 
ness was  of  the  leg.  Neither  my  eyes  nor  my  ears  were 
touched  by  the  leopard,  and  since  I  lay  here  I  have  both 
seen  and  heard.  There  is  a  woman  that  I  have  watched, 
a  woman  with  brown  hair  that  has  in  it  the  glint  of  cop- 
per. She  flaunts  you  now,  as  is  the  way  of  women  with 
those  they  love;  but  she  is  the  one  you  desire,  and  pres- 
ently (having  this  charm)  you  will  take  her  to  wife.  In- 
deed, she  will  come  to  your  house  without  purchase  and 
of  free  will." 

"  You  mistake,"  said  Carter  with  a  sigh.  "  It  is  the 
black-haired  one  that  I  am  contracted  to  marry." 

Ben  Hossein  smiled.  He  was  not  to  be  turned  from  his 
idea  by  a  small  argument  like  that.  "  You  may  take  her 


182  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

as  the  lesser  wife,  but  I  know  who  will  rule  your  harem, 
Effendi." 

"You  polygamous  old  scoundrel!  I  beg  your  pardon, 
ben  Hossein,  but  you're  on  the  wrong  tack,  and  so  please 
let  us  change  the  subject.  This  charm,  this  duck,  is  made 
of  what  we  call  tin-stone.  Does  it  come  from  Hausa- 
land?" 

"  No,  Effendi.  It  is  found  nearer  to  here  than  the 
Hausa  country.  There  is  a  great  island  of  red  twisted 
stone  that  rears  itself  up  out  of  the  bush,  and  this  stone 
that  the  duck  is  made  of  lies  amongst  it.  There  is  no 
value  in  the  charm  as  a  stone,  but  only  value  in  its  shape, 
which  is  that  of  a  duck  as  you  see,  Effendi.  Half  the 
twisted  mountain  is  made  of  that  stone,  and  the  river  that 
runs  along  its  base  at  times  eats  into  it." 

"  How  far  is  it  from  here  ?  " 

"  Twelve — no,  thirteen  marches.  Look,  I  will  spread 
this  sand  upon  the  floor  and  draw  you  the  roads.  .  .  . 
But  the  country  is  evil,  Effendi,  and  though  you  go  there 
and  spend  a  lifetime  in  search,  yet  will  you  not  find 
another  stone  formed  like  a  duck.  To  get  this,  my  grand- 
father sent  a  hundred  slaves  who  raked  amongst  the  screes 
for  a  year." 

"  This  is  tin-ore/'  said  Carter,  "  and  I  tell  you  frankly, 
ben  Hossein,  that  there  is  a  fortune  in  what  you  have  told 
me." 

"  I  wish,"  said  ben  Hossein  gravely,  "  that  there  were 
ten  fortunes,  and  so  I  could  perhaps  repay  one-tithe  of 
what  I  owe  to  you,  Effendi.  May  Allah  be  with  you.  I  go 
now  back  towards  my  people,  and  if  Allah  will,  we  shall 
meet  again." 

"Now,  this  stone  and  this  tale  must  go  to  Kate,"  said 
Carter  to  himself,  and  went  in  towards  the  factory  and  up 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  183 

the  stairs  to  the  veranda.  Kate  came  out  of  the  mess  room 
to  meet  him,  and  waved  a  cablegram. 

"  I  have  just  de-coded  it/'  she  cried  exultingly.  "  They 
have  accepted  my  terms." 

"  I  wish  you  would  de-code  the  '  they/ '' 

"  The  German  firm  that  owned  Mokki  before  we  came." 

"  What,  the  people  you  bought  it  from  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

"  But  why  on  earth  sell  it  back  to  them  ?  " 

"Because,  my  dear  Mr.  Carter,  they  are  going  to  give 
me  £9,000  for  the  produce  we  have  collected,  and  another 
£8,000  for  the  fort  and  the  good-will  of  the  business. 
How's  that  ?  £17,000  cash  against  a  £1,500  outlay  in  three 
months.  That's  better  than  staying  out  here  in  West 
Africa." 

Carter  had  been  carrying  the  duck  in  his  hand.  He 
put  it  into  his  pocket.  "  I  don't  wonder  you're  exultant. 
I  suppose  no  other  girl  on  earth  ever  made  a  coup  like 
that.  And  as  for  us  here  at  the  factory,  that  means  our 
occupation's  gone  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  hope  you'll  go  back  to  Malla-Nulla,  where  you 
were,  and  work  for  us  there." 

"  I  think  not.  As  you're  going  home,  and  I  cannot  be 
of  any  immediate  use  to  O'Neill  and  Craven,  I  prefer  to 
leave  the  firm's  employ  if  you'll  let  me  ?  " 

"  We  shall  be  really  sorry  to  lose  you.  But  perhaps 
you  have  something  better  in  view  ?  " 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  I  have.  And  it  strikes  me  if  I'm  to 
make  a  fortune,  I  must  look  out  for  it  myself." 

"  I  quite  agree  with  you,"  said  Kate.  "  What  was  that 
you  were  going  to  show  me?  The  thing  you  put  in  your 
pocket,  I  mean  ?  " 

"  A  keepsake  that  was  given  me.  It's  a  charm,  a  ju-ju 
that  will  bring  fortune  to  somebody,  and  I  was  going  to 


184  KATE   MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEE 

give  it  to  you.    But  on  your  own  recommendation  I  shall 
keep  it  for  myself/' 

"  You  are  quite  right.    It  will  be  safer  for  us  to  go  our 
own  several  ways  from  here." 


CHAPTEE  XIII 

AT    THE    LIVERPOOL    END 

Now,  Godfrey  O'Neill,  deceased,  was  a  man  who  at  vari- 
ous times  in  his  life  had  extracted  from  West  Africa  very 
considerable  sums  of  money.  He  was  shrewd,  he  was 
popular,  he  had  the  knack  of  resisting  sickly  climates,  and 
he  knew  the  possibilities  of  the  Oil  Eivers  seaboard  down 
to  the  last  bag  of  kernels. 

According  to  his  own  account  he  had  started  life  as  a 
ship's  purser.  People  who  were  more  fond  of  accuracy 
mentioned  that  as  a  matter  of  history  he  had  first  gone 
as  cabin-boy  in  a  palm  oil  brig.  But  be  that  as  it  may, 
he  had  been  associated  with  the  Coast  from  his  earliest 
days,  and  at  the  age  of  five-and-twenty  was  trading  there 
on  his  own  account. 

At  first  he  stuck  to  an  old  trading  hulk  with  moorings 
in  the  muddy  Monk  Eiver  and  battled  with  its  swarms 
of  cockroaches  and  got  together  a  business ;  but  by  degrees 
he  gained  the  confidence  of  the  native  riparian  magnates, 
and  by  the  time  he  was  thirty  he  had  built  on  piles  a  fine 
set  of  factory  buildings  on  the  bank,  had  bought  a  treaty 
with  the  then  King  of  Okky,  and  had  built  another  fac- 
tory at  Malla-Nulla  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  beach 
there  was  one  of  the  most  surf-smitten  on  the  Coast.  After 
that  he  felt  that  his  Liverpool  correspondents  were  getting 
more  than  their  due  share  of  his  hard-wrung  profits,  and 
so  he  put  the  Coast  factories  under  managers  and  came 
back  to  the  Mersey.  And  thereafter,  with  occasions1  visits 


186  KATE    MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

to  the  Coast  and  the  Islands,  he  made  Liverpool  his  head- 
quarters. 

He  had  an  office  in  Water  Street,  a  warehouse  near 
Huskisson  Dock,  and  a  house  furnished  with  mid- Victorian 
solidity  and  ugliness  out  at  Princes'  Park.  A  sister,  Mrs. 
Craven,  whose  unsatisfactory  husband  had  conveniently 
died  on  the  Coast,  kept  house  for  him,  and  as  she  voted 
marriage  a  failure,  Godfrey  professed  himself  as  quite 
ready  to  take  her  verdict  and  was  not  anxious  to  dabble  in 
dangerous  experiments. 

Finally,  as  Godfrey  O'Neill  discovered,  after  a  two  years' 
trial  of  the  style  of  living  that  suited  him  at  Princes'  Park, 
that  it  cost  him  just  £900  a  year,  he  saw  very  little  use 
in  bestirring  himself  to  earn  more.  He  quite  admitted  that 
there  were  other  luxuries  in  the  world  that  he  did  not  in- 
dulge in.  He  might  have  kept  horses,  for  instance;  but 
he  happened  to  dislike  them.  He  might  have  had  a  French 
chef;  only  plain  roast  beef  and  plain  roast  mutton  ap- 
pealed more  to  his  appetite,  and  a  plain  British  cook  at 
£20  a  year  produced  these  exactly  to  his  taste.  He  might 
have  had  a  larger  house,  but  frankly  he  did  not  want  one. 

So  he  went  down  to  the  office  in  Water  Street  every 
other  day,  and  ceased  to  stir  the  business  there  when  it 
showed  any  signs  of  averaging  a  more  than  £1,500  profit 
for  any  one  year,  not  because  he  objected  to  additional 
wealth,  but  because  he  far  preferred  to  play  whist  to  pur- 
suing money.  One  may  here  own  freely  that  Godfrey 
O'Neill  was  an  active  member  of  no  less  than  five  whist 
quartettes  which  met  at  clubs  and  houses,  and  there  was 
the  amusement  which  after  long  search  he  had  discovered 
pleased  him  best. 

In  the  comfortable  ugly  house  in  Princes'  Park,  besides 
Godfrey  and  Mrs.  Craven,  and  the  two  servants,  there  was 
a  child  who  afterwards  developed  into  the  Kate  O'Neill  of 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK  187 

these  memoirs.  Godfrey  O'Neill  brought  her  home  on  the 
last  visit  he  made  to  West  Africa.  She  was  then  aged, 
at  a  theoretical  reckoning,  three  years,  and  she  was  more 
fluent  in  the  Okky  tongue  than  in  English.  She  had 
never  worn  shoes  till  Godfrey  bought  her  a  pair  in  Las 
Palmas  on  the  voyage  home. 

"  Is  she  white  ?  "  Mrs.  Craven  had  asked. 

"  White,  clean  through,"  Godfrey  had  assured  her. 

"  Then  who  are  her  people  ?  " 

"  That  I  shall  not  tell  even  you.  Her  mother  is  dead. 
Her  father  has  gone  under.  He  was  a  very  clever  man 
once,  though  I  must  say  he  used  to  be  more  high  and 
mighty  than  I  cared  about  on  the  rare  occasions  that  I  met 
him.  But,  as  I  say,  he's  gone  under,  hopelessly." 

"  And  presently,"  said  Mrs.  Craven,  "  when  we  get  this 
little  wild  thing  tamed,  and  clothed,  and  teach  her  to 
speak  English  and  go  to  church,  up  will  come  some 
drunken  reprobate  to  take  her  away  again." 

"  No,  he  won't.  I've  fixed  that.  He'll  never  claim  her 
again.  To  start  with  he  doesn't  know  if  she's  in  England, 
or  Canada,  or  Grand  Canary.  I  even  changed  the  name 
he  called  her  by.  I  called  her  Kate  from  the  day  I  left 
him,  and  had  her  christened  by  that  name  in  Sierra  Leone 
on  the  off  chance  she  hadn't  been  christened  before.  And 
to  go  on  with,  he  gave  me  his  word  of  honor  that  if  I 
took  her  away,  he'd  never  embarrass  me  by  inquiring  for 
her  again.  You  see,  he  was  living  as  a  native,  and  the 
child  was  running  about  with  the  other  pickaninnies  in  the 
village,  and  I  guess  I  made  him  pretty  well  ashamed  of 
himself  by  what  I  said.  The  mother's  dead,  you  know." 

"  Poof,"  said  Mrs.  Craven,  "  he  promised  you,  did  he  ? 
And  what  do  you  suppose  the  word  of  a  man  like  that  is 
worth?"  (The  late  Craven  had,  it  will  be  remembered, 
his  strong  failings.) 


188  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

"  Ninety-nine  beach  combers  out  of  a  hundred  will  lie 
as  soon  as  look  at  you/'  Godfrey  owned.  "  This  one  is 
the  exception.  He  will  keep  his  word,  at  any  rate  on  this 
matter.  He's  just  as  proud  as  a  king." 

"Between  drinks,"  suggested  the  widow. 

"  He's  more  objectionably  proud  drunk  than  sober.  He 
always  quotes  Latin  at  one  when  he's  full,  and  then  says, 
'  Ah,  but  you've  not  been  to  school  anywhere,  so  you'll  not 
understand  that.'  You  needn't  be  frightened  he'll  call  here, 
Jane.  Just  remember  I'm  a  man  with  a  taste  for  ease 
myself.  If  I'd  thought  there  was  the  smallest  chance  of 
being  bothered  with  him,  I  shouldn't  have  saddled  myself 
with  the  kid." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Craven,  "  as  you  have  brought  her, 
I  suppose  we  must  do  the  best  we  can  for  her.  The  aver- 
age orphanage  doesn't  take  them  till  they  are  six,  but  I 
suppose  if  we  hunt  round  we  can  find  some  sort  of  insti- 
tution which  will  accept  three-year-olds." 

"  Orphanage,  h'm.  You  see,  Jane,  I  was  thinking  we 
might  keep  her  ourselves.  I  am  sure  we  could  look  after 
her." 

"  I  object  to  the  word  '  we,' "  said  Mrs.  Craven  dryly. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  most  of  the  work  would  fall  on  your 
shoulders." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it." 

"  Come  along,  old  lady,  don't  you  think  you  can  man- 
age it?  Kitty  isn't  a  bad  sort  of  kid.  Y'know,  I  saw  a 
goodish  deal  of  her  on  the  steamer  coming  home." 

"  I  thought  you  gave  her  in  charge  of  a  steward  ?  " 

"  I  never  told  you  that." 

Mrs.  Craven  laughed.  "  You  see,  I  know  your  little 
ways — *  Steward,  here's  a  girl  for  you.  If  you  nursery- 
maid the  kid  nicely  till  we  get  to  Liverpool,  and  don't  let 
me  see  more  of  her  than  I  want,  and  don't  let  her  come 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  189 

in  and  prattle  when  I'm  playing  whist  with  Captain  Im- 
age, there'll  be  another  quid  for  you  when  we  land.  After 
that  my  sister  will  take  her  over,  and  she  won't  want  a  tip 
at  all." 

"  H'm,"  said  Godfrey,  "  now,  diamonds  aren't  in  your 
line." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  seen  with  one.  I'll  take  a  brown  cloth 
gown,  please." 

"Shall  I  order  it?" 

"  No,  you  can  pay  the  bill." 

"Right-o.  Then  you  will  take  Kitty  and  bring  her  up 
here?" 

"  You  stupid  goose,"  said  Mrs.  Craven,  "  I  intended 
that  from  the  moment  I  saw  her.  Cook's  out  buying  her 
a  cot  this  minute." 

Here  then  was  the  way  that  Kate  first  came  into  the 
house  at  Princes'  Park.  She  arrived  without  a  surname, 
and  Godfrey,  in  spite  of  hints  and  plain  questions,  kept 
back  any  further  pedigree.  The  child  arranged  a  name 
for  herself.  When  she  had  been  a  year  in  England  she 
went  out  to  a  small  folks'  party : 

"  Let  me  see,  what's  your  name  ? "  asked  the  hostess, 
who  had  got  tangled  up  among  her  many  small  guests. 

The  child  had  answered  "  Kate  O'Neill,"  as  a  matter  of 
course.  She  had  called  Mrs.  Craven,  Aunt  .Jane,  and  her 
brother  Uncle  Godfrey  from  the  first,  and  after  that  ju- 
venile party  she  was  introduced  as  "my  niece,  Kate 
O'Neill." 

As  she  grew,  anything  to  do  with  West  Africa  and  with 
business  fascinated  her,  and  curiously  enough  her  prin- 
cipal instructor  in  these  matters  was  Mrs.  Craven.  God- 
frey, honest  man,  was  not  going  to  be  bothered.  His  re- 
partee when  Kate  asked  him  anything  about  the  Coast 


190  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

was,  "  Go  and  invite  some  one  to  come  in  and  let's  make  up 
a  rubber  of  whist."  When  one  day  he  died,  and  left  Kate 
the  O'Neill  and  Craven  business,  both  she  and  her  aunt 
supposed  he  had  done  it  as  an  effort  of  humor. 

Mrs.  Craven  had  the  house  and  furniture  at  Princes' 
Park,  and  a  comfortable  annuity  to  keep  it  up  on.  Kate 
came  into  a  business  that  had  been  thoroughly  neglected, 
and  allowed  to  run  down  till  it  was  in  a  very  shaky  posi- 
tion, indeed,  financially. 

"  Sell  it,"  said  Mrs.  Craven,  "  for  what  it  will  fetch." 

"  I'd  rather  run  it  myself,"  said  Kate. 

"Kubbish,"  said  her  aunt;  "you're  twenty,  and  the 
world's  before  you  to  enjoy.  Besides,  my  dear,  you're  sure 
to  marry.  Sell  the  business." 

"  If  you  want  plain  facts,  aunt,  I  don't  see  why  anyone 
should  give  sixpence  for  it,  and  if  we  tried  to  wind  it  up, 
it  would  mean  bankruptcy.  Some  of  the  money's  a  very 
long  way  out." 

"  Your  poor  Uncle  Godfrey  intended  to  leave  you  com- 
fortably off,  I  know." 

"And  I'm  pleased  to  think  he  died  believing  he  had 
done  so.  They  had  the  quaintest  way  of  keeping  books 
down  at  Water  Street.  Cutting  notches  on  a  tally-stick 
was  nothing  to  some  of  their  dodges.  They  hadn't  struck 
a  proper  balance  sheet  for  years,  and  both  Uncle  Godfrey 
and  Mr.  Crewdson  really  and  honestly  imagined  that  the 
firm  was  flourishing." 

"  You  sell,"  said  Mrs.  Craven. 

"  Not  I,  aunt.  Uncle  Godfrey  left  me  the  concern  be- 
lieving it  to  be  a  small  fortune  for  me,  and  a  fortune  I'm 
going  to  make  out  of  it,  and  not  a  small  one,  either." 

"  I  don't  believe  in  business  women,"  said  Mrs.  Craven 
severely.  "  I'd  rather  see  a  womanly  woman." 

"  My  dear,"  said  Kate,  "  you  shall  see  the  two  combined 


KATE    MEBEDITH,    FINANCIER  191 

in  me  presently.  I'm  going  to  make  a  ve-ry  large  and 
extensive  fortune;  but  the  moment  you  see  anything  un- 
feminine  about  me,  I  want  you  to  tell  me,  and  I'll  sell 
out  forthwith." 

Thereafter  from  eight  o'clock  A.M.  to  six-thirty  P.M. 
for  five  days  a  week  Kate  sat  in  an  inner  room  of  the 
Water  Street  office,  with  the  ancient  Crewdson  as  a  buffer 
between  her  and  the  world.  She  came  into  the  place  with 
a  talent  for  figures,  and  a  good  general  idea  of  the  busi- 
ness, and  she  set  herself  first  to  the  conversion  of  Mr. 
Crewdson. 

That  worthy  old  person  was  entirely  of  opinion  that 
what  was  good  enough  for  poor  Mr.  Godfrey  was  quite 
good  enough  for  anybody  else,  and  (when  pressed)  said  so 
with  unfriendly  plainness.  A  man,  in  Kate's  shoes,  would 
have  dismissed  him,  and  brought  in  younger  blood.  Kate 
preferred  conversion.  She  knew  that  there  was  a  great 
quarry  of  information  on  matters  West  African  stowed 
beneath  Mr.  Crewdson's  dull  exterior,  and  she  intended 
to  dig  at  it.  So  she  reduced  his  wages,  which  he  quite 
agreed  with  her  the  firm  could  not  afford,  and  then,  un- 
asked, offered  him  a  fine  commission  on  the  next  year's 
profits.  It  was  curious  to  see  how  soon  she  galvanized 
him  into  an  opinion  that  these  profits  must  certainly  be 
forthcoming. 

She  laid  in  a  typewriter,  burned  the  office  quills,  wrote 
the  firm's  letters,  signed  them  For  O'Neill  and  Craven, 
K.  O'Neill,  and  before  she  knew  it  had  created  a  personal- 
ity. Ten  callers  a  day — captains,  pursers,  traders,  mer- 
chants— wanted  to  shake  hands  with  "  your  new  head,  Mr. 
K.,"  and  went  away  with  the  idea  that  old  Crewdson  had 
suddenly  developed  capacity,  and  on  the  strength  of  it  had 
stood  himself  a  new  signature. 

On  Saturdays,  during  the  summer,  Miss  O'Neill  caught 


192  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

butterflies,  and  in  the  winter  played  golf.  On  Sunday 
morning  she  went  to  church.  On  Sunday  afternoons  and 
evenings  she  had  something  very  nearly  approaching  a 
salon.  On  these  latter  occasions  Mrs.  Craven  flattered 
herself  that  she  brought  success  by  her  artistic  attention 
to  the  commissariat. 

Now,  the  girl  was  attractive  to  men,  and  although  she 
was  emphatically  a  girl's  girl,  still  she  had  as  many  friends 
of  one  sex  as  the  other.  She  was  good-looking,  she  was 
amusing,  she  was  always  well  turned  out,  and  she  carried 
about  with  her  that  indescribable  charm  (above  and  be- 
yond these  other  matters)  which  always  makes  people 
desirous  of  warming  up  a  first  acquaintance  into  intimacy. 

To  one  man  only  had  she  shown  any  special  degree  of 
preference,  and  he  was  enough  encouraged  thereby  to  pro- 
pose marriage  to  her. 

She  accepted  him — provisionally. 

"  I  am  not  absolutely  certain  that  I  wish  to  be  married 
just  yet/'  she  told  him,  "but  I  am  going  abroad  now, 
and  I  will  let  you  know  definitely  when  I  return.  Those 
are  not  nice  terms,  but  they  are  the  best  I  can  offer.  I 
have  always  been  able  to  give  a  '  yes '  or  '  no '  decision 
on  every  other  matter  in  life  so  far.  But  here  I  can't.  It 
is  weak  of  me.  Perhaps  it  is  merely  womanly." 

"  You  are  exquisite  in  your  womanliness,  as  you  are  ex- 
quisite in  everything  else,"  he  had  replied.  "  I  am  grateful 
for  any  bone  of  comfort  you  throw  me,  Kitty  dear." 

She  was  going  away  then  to  West  Africa,  as  has  been 
related  above,  and  the  man  saw  her  off  from  the  landing 
stage.  She  returned  the  waving  of  his  handkerchief. 
"  Now,  if  you  had  abused  me  for  my  indecision,  and  said 
you  would  either  be  engaged  or  not  engaged,  I  believe  I'd 
have  married  you  out  of  hand  if  you'd  wanted  me.  But 
you  didn't  seem  able  to  clinch  things,  and  so  anyhow 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  193 

you're  pigeon-holed  for  the  present.  I'm  glad  I  made  you 
keep  our  little  matter  secret." 

The  man's  name  was  Austin.  Many  times  during  the 
voyage  south  through  the  Bay,  and  down  the  Trades  from 
the  Islands,  Kate  told  herself  she  ought  to  announce  the 
fact  that  she  was  engaged.  But  on  every  occasion  her 
femininity  got  up  in  arms.  "  Certainly  not,"  said  this 
intangible  force.  "  Mr.  Austin  is  a  man,  and  if  he  cares 
to  be  a  man  and  gossip,  why  let  him.  But  a  woman  by 
reason  of  her  sex  is  not  called  upon  to  say  more  than  she 
needs."  So  Kate  held  her  tongue,  and  regretted  more 
and  more  every  day  that — well — that  she  should  have  cause 
for  regrets. 

When  she  got  back  to  England,  a  day  ahead  of  time, 
Aunt  Jane  happened  to  be  in  London,  but  Austin  had  a 
wire  from  Point  Lynas  and  was  there  on  the  landing  stage 
to  meet  her.  He  wanted  to  kiss  her  there  before  the  Torld, 
but  she  had  the  advantage  of  height,  and  avoided  him 
skilfully  and  without  advertisement.  Their  subsequent 
handshake  was  somewhat  of  a  failure. 

"Hullo,  Henry,"  said  Miss  O'Neill,  "fancy  seeing  you 
here.  I  suppose  you  will  try  and  make  out  you  came  down 
here  to  the  landing  stage  on  purpose  to  meet  me?  How 
abominably  hot  Liverpool  is,  and  how  atrociously  the  Mer- 
sey smells  after  that  nice  clean  Smooth  River.  Have  you 
caught  me  any  butterflies?  I've  brought  four  cases  full 
home  from  the  Coast,  and  I  honestly  believe  I've  got  two 
unnamed  specimens.  If  they  turn  out  new,  I  shall  christen 
one  after  myself — something  O'Neillii.  There's  vanity  for 
you!  And  now  for  the  Customs  House." 

"Is  that  all  you  have  to  say  to  me,  Kitty?  I've  been 
just  hungry  all  the  time  to  see  you  again.  I  don't  think 
a  single  hour  of  a  single  day  has  passed  but  what  I  have 
thought  of  you,  and  where  you  were,  and  what  you  were 
doing." 


194  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEE 

"  Well,  Henry,  that's  more  than  I  could  say.  Here, 
wait  till  I  catch  that  porter's  eye.  He's  taking  my  cabin 
trunk  to  the  wrong  heap.  About  what  was  in  my  head 
between  here  and  the  Coast,  I'll  not  say,  but  once  out  there, 
I'll  tell  you  frankly  I  gave  little  enough  thought  to  any- 
thing except  Coast  interests.  The  first  place  I  went  ashore 
at  after  Sierra  Leone  was  our  own  factory  at  Smooth, 
and  they'd  had  a  fight  there  which  only  ended  up  when 
our  whistle  blew.  The  clearing  between  the  factory  build- 
ings and  the  forest  was  full  of  dead  men.  I  found  out 
that  no  fewer  than  800  Okky  savages  had  attacked  the 
place,  and  they  were  all  held  off  by  one  of  our  clerks  with 
a  couple  of  Winchesters,  and  a  half-caste  girl  who  loaded 
for  him.  It  sounds  like  a  tale  out  of  a  book,  and  you 
needn't  believe  it  unless  you  like;  I  don't  think  I  should 
believe  it  unless  I  had  seen  things  for  myself,  but  I  did  see 
the  men  who  had  been  actually  shot  when  they  tried  to 
rush  the  place,  and  I  can  guarantee  the  truth  of  the  story." 

"  Don't  tell  me  there's  a  romance  between  you  and  your 
clerk." 

"  There  wasn't  room  for  one.  He  was  engaged  to  the 
heroine  already,  and  was  as  consistently  rude  to  me  as  he 
knew  how.  But  I  don't  mind  telling  you  he  was  a  mag- 
nificent fellow.  He  was  a  gentleman,  too,  which  is  rather 
a  rare  thing  to  find  on  the  Coast.  But  you're  letting  me 
do  all  the  talk.  You  haven't  told  me  about  yourself.  What 
have  you  been  doing  ?  " 

"  The  usual  work  of  a  busy  solicitor ;  getting  new  clients, 
and  sticking  to  the  old  ones.  I  can  report  good,  steady 
success,  Kitty.  We  can  start  pretty  comfortably." 

A  Customs  searcher  put  his  usual  questions,  and  Kate 
smiled  on  him  and  said  she  had  nothing  to  declare.  He 
scrawled  a  chalk  hieroglyphic  on  all  her  property  without 
opening  a  single  piece.  "  There,  look,  Henry,  stop  that 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  195 

porter.  He's  taking  a  case  of  mine  to  the  wrong  cab. 
Thanks,  I  wouldn't  have  lost  that  case  for  a  king's  ran- 
som." 

"Butterflies?" 

"No,  a  native  war  horn  in  ivory." 

"  Oh,  they're  fairly  common." 

"  Yes,  hut  a  friend  gave  me  this,  and  I  want  to  keep 
it.  There,  I  think  that's  the  lot.  Good-by,  Henry.  You'll 
come  and  see  me  at  Princes'  Park  when  I'm  settled  down 
again?" 

"  But,  Kitty,  can't  I  drive  out  with  you  now  ?  I'd  so 
looked  forward  to  driving  back  with  you.  There's  plenty 
of  room  in  the  cab." 

"  No,"  said  Kate,  "  I'd  rather  you  went  home  now,  and 
thought  over  again  what  I'm  like  now  that  I've  come  back 
to  England  with  a  West  Coast  flavor.  I  know  you'll  dis- 
approve of  me  as  a  possible  wife,  but  I  do  hope  you'll  see 
your  way  of  keeping  me  on  the  list  of  your  friends.  No- 
body knows  you  ever  suggested  anything  more,  unless  you 
have  told  them,  and  I  don't  see  why  they  should  know. 
But  I'm  more  than  ever  convinced  that  I'm  not  the  girl 
to  make  you  the  wife  you  deserve.  Don't  answer  me  now, 
there's  a  nice  boy.  Just  go  to  the  club  and  have  a  good 
dinner,  and  ring  me  up  some  time  this  evening  and  say 
you  thoroughly  agree  with  me." 

Mrs.  Craven  came  back  that  evening  from  London  and 
Kate  told  her  of  West  Africa  happenings  with  a  fine 
wealth  of  detail. 

The  old  lady  looked  at  her  very  narrowly  and  when  she 
had  finished,  "  Yes,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  and  now  are 
you  going  to  tell  me  something  that  will  interest  me  far 
more  than  all  that  ?  " 

"No,  Aunt,  I  think  you  have  got  the  pith  of  it." 

"  If  you  won't  tell,  you  won't.    But  you  must  remember, 


196  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEE 

Kitty  dear,  I  have  known  you  and  nursed  you  ever  since 
you  were  a  tiny  child,  and  you  can't  change — as  you  have 
done — without  my  noticing  it.  Now,  this  Mr.  Carter " 

"  Yes,  I  did  forget  to  tell  you  that  he's  got  frightfully 
red  hair." 

"  You  say  he's  engaged  to  Laura  Slade  ?  " 

"  Oppressively  so." 

"  But  is  he  going  to  marry  her  ?  " 

"How  can  I  tell,  Aunt?" 

"  Who  is  he  going  to  marry,  Kitty  dear  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XIV 
TIN  HILL:  THE  JOUENEY 

Now,  lead-mining  has  been  stopped  in  Upper  Wharfe- 
dale  these  thirty  years,  but  still  a  boy  who  has  been 
brought  up  in  a  village  there  may  well  have  some  general 
knowledge  of  ores  and  the  methods  of  getting  them.  The 
mining  first  began  in  those  dim  British  days  before  the 
Eomans  came,  and  it  has  continued  on  down  through  the 
centuries  till  the  influx  of  foreign  lead  brought  prices 
below  £25  a  ton,  and  the  mines  could  not  be  worked  at  a 
profit. 

Eaw  dumps  and  grass-covered  dumps  are  traceable  on 
every  hand,  and  though  the  older  tunnels  are  obliterated, 
there  are  still  enough  shafts  and  drifts  and  adits  to  be 
found  in  the  gray  stone  hills  to  occupy  many  months' 
exploration. 

George  Carter  had  heard  of  the  past  glories  of  lead 
from  his  earliest  years,  and  old  residents  pointed  to  the 
ruined  cottages  that  were  filled  and  flourishing  when  the 
village  held  500  people  who  lived  by  the  mines,  instead  of 
the  200  who  dwelt  there  now  and  made  a  lean  living  out 
of  a  little  limp  farming.  With  pockets  stuffed  with  candle- 
ends  he  had  splashed  into  the  old  levels  and  wandered  for 
miles  in  the  heart  of  the  limestone  hills  and  hacked  with 
rusty  pickheads  at  forgotten  working  faces;  he  had  raked 
amongst  the  old  ruined  machinery  beside  the  dumps;  he 
had  studied  the  run  of  the  water  races,  and  as  far  as  a 
man  with  a  natural  engineering  bent  may  reconstruct 


198          KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

these  things  from  memorials  of  the  past,  he  had  done  so 
most  thoroughly,  and,  in  the  old  unscientific  way,  was  as 
good  a  miner  as  any  of  those  blue-gummed  ruffians  of  the 
past,  and  that  without  even  having  seen  a  lead  mine  in 
real  \vork. 

Tin-stone  he  had  seen  in  a  not  very  well-equipped  school 
museum;  a  tin  mine  he  knew  only  from  an  old  book  on 
Cornwall,  which  treated  that  country  more  from  the  pic- 
turesque point  of  view  than  the  mechanical  or  the  scien- 
tific. 

But  the  thing  that  had  fired  his  mind  one  baking  day  at 
Malla-Nulla  was  a  newspaper  paragraph  which  spoke  of 
the  price  of  tin.  Up  till  then,  like  the  majority  of  the 
human  race,  he  had  not  troubled  his  head  as  to  whether 
tin  was  £5  a  ton  or  £50.  But  here  he  saw  that  it  had 
gone  up  to  no  less  a  figure  than  £207  10s.  per  ton.  He 
wished  he  could  find  a  tin  mine,  but  concluding  he  might 
as  well  search  that  particular  .part  of  steamy  West  Africa 
for  great  auk's  eggs,  went  no  further  than  framing  the 
wish. 

Then  came  the  happenings  at  Mokki,  and  Ali  ben  Hos- 
sein's  parting  gift  of  the  little  gray  stone  duck  which  had 
unmistakable  brown  tin  crystals  for  its  head,  its  wings 
and  its  feet,  and  on  the  top  of  all  arrived  Kate's  cable- 
gram. A  sweating  operator  had  read  that  message  from 
under  sea,  as  it  winked  out  in  a  darkened  cable  hut ;  run- 
ners had  carried  the  curt  words  along  roaring  beaches, 
paddlers  had  borne  them  by  canoe  up  muddy  creeks,  a 
great  bank  in  far-off  Hamburg  had  pledged  the  perform- 
ance of  their  promise.  A  day  later  the  slatternly  S.S.  Frau 
Pobst  lurched  untidily  up  the  muddy  creeks,  and  com- 
menced to  ease  the  factory  buildings  of  their  overflowing 
wealth  of  West  African  produce. 

Carter  itched  to  be  off.    It  had  come  to  this;  he  could 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  199 

not  trust  himself  in  Kate's  neighborhood.  Laura  Slade 
saw,  or  fancied  she  saw  how  things  were,  and  bravely  asked 
him  one  day  to  break  their  engagement. 

But  Carter  drew  her  down  onto  the  office  chair  beside 
him  and  put  an  arm  round  her  and  kissed  her.  "  Now/' 
he  said,  "  tell  out  frankly  who  it  is  that  you  like  better 
than  you  like  me  ?  " 

"  It  isn't  that,  George." 

"  Well,  as  Cascaes  is  the  only  alternative,  I  didn't  sup- 
pose it  was.  Come  now,  out  with  it,  what's  the  trouble? 
I  suppose  you're  just  going  to  be  a  woman  and  tell  me  it's 
my  fault?  I  don't  agree  with  you.  I'm  the  same  me  as 
always  was — red  hair,  large  feet,  and  as  big  an  appetite  as 
the  Coast  will  allow." 

She  put  her  face  against  his  shoulder.  "  It's  Kate, 
George." 

"  You  must  let  me  refer  to  her  as  Miss  O'Neill,"  said 
Carter  dryly.  "You  see,  she's  my  employer — or  was — 
and  we're  naturally  not  on  intimate  terms —  Well,  what's 
Miss  O'Neill  got  to  do  with  my  marrying  you  ?  " 

"  She's  always  been  opposed  to  it." 

"  Twaddle !  Now,  look  here,  my  dear,  you've  been  nervy 
and  upset  ever  since  that  bit  of  a  scrap  at  Smooth  River. 
Now,  haven't  you  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  I  have." 

"  I'm  sure  of  it.  And  it's  not  surprising.  That  was  a 
pretty  tough  time  for  any  girl  to  go  through.  Well,  as 
I've  told  you,  I've  got  my  nose  onto  a  fortune  that's  tucked 
away  up  in  the  bush,  and  I'm  going  to  look  for  it.  In 
the  meanwhile,  as  I  managed  to  screw  sixty  golden  sov- 
ereigns out  of  that  greedy  old  Balgarnie  for  curios  that 
he'll  sell  for  at  least  a  hundred  and  forty,  there's  just  that 
amount  of  cash  to  take  you  on  a  jaunt  to  Grand  Canary 
for  rose  growing." 


200  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  Rose  growing  ?  " 

"To  put  color  in  your  cheeks,  then,  you  pale  young 
person." 

"  But  I  couldn't  take  the  money  from  you." 

"  And  pray  who  has  a  greater  right  to  take  care  of  you, 
and  prescribe  what's  best  for  you,  and  look  after  you  gen- 
erally ?  D'you  think  I  want  to  marry  a  wife  who  isn't  in 
the  pink  of  condition  ?  " 

"  I  like  to  look  nice  for  you,  dear,  but  I  couldn't  take 
that  money  from  you  now  of  all  times." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  When  you  are  just  going  off  on  some  desperate  expedi- 
tion into  the  bush,  and  want  every  penny  that  can  be 
scraped  together." 

Carter  laughed.  "  There  you  go,  wanting  to  lead  me 
into  temptation.  Wanting  me  to  take  money  in  my  pocket 
to  buy  (presumably)  kid  gloves  and  fire-escapes  in  the  shops 
of  the  bush  villages,  and  spend  my  nights  in  local  music 
halls.  Fie  on  you  that  will  one  of  these  days  have  to  turn 
into  a  thrifty  wife!  I  shall  avoid  these  temptations.  I 
shall  travel  as  unostentatiously  as  possible,  and  so  ensure 
getting  through.  I  shall  take  with  me  White-Man's- 
Trouble  only,  if  the  beggar  will  condescend  to  go  and  live 
on  native  chop,  for  the  best  of  all  possible  reasons  that  it 
wouldn't  be  possible  to  take  a  lot  of  carriers.  Can't  you 
see,  my  dear,  that  the  choice  lies  between  a  three-thousand- 
pound  expedition,  with  carriers,  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  and 
going  quietly,  and  being  too  obviously  poor  to  rob  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  there  is  something  in  that.  Father  went 
quietly." 

"  Of  course  he  did,  and  so  shall  I.  Some  day,  if  things 
pan  out  as  I  hope,  I  may  march  up  country  at  the  tail 
end  of  a  brass  band,  and  do  the  thing  in  style ;  but  not  to- 
morrow, thank  you.  So  if  you  won't  take  charge  of  our 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK  201 

superfluous  £60  and  decorate  Grand  Canary  with  it,  I'm 
hanged  if  I  don't  dash  it  amongst  the  factory  boys  here, 
and  have  one  flaring  jamboree  before  we  part  company." 

"  Oh,  George,  you  are  good !  " 

"Don't  you  fret  about  my  goodness,  old  lady.  I'm  a 
pretty  bad  fellow  at  the  bottom,  only  I  try  and  keep  my 
worst  points  out  of  your  sight.  Man  has  to,  you  know, 
with  the  girl  he's  engaged  to.  It's  only  playing  the  game. 
Now,  you  let  me  go,  and  I'll  just  slip  across  to  the  Frau 
and  blarney  her  old  Dutch  skipper  into  giving  you  the  best 
room  he's  got  to  fight  the  cockroaches  in." 

It  was  on  a  Thursday  that  the  Frau  Pobst  steamed  away 
back  down  the  muddy  creeks  laden  with  one  of  the  richest 
cargoes  that  one  single  factory  had  ever  collected  in  West 
Africa,  and  on  that  same  day  Carter  set  off  into  the  bush. 
Kate  and  Laura  were  to  brave  the  terrors  of  the  steamer 
together  as  far  as  the  Islands,  and  they  found  the  boat 
even  more  unspeakable  than  they  had  imagined  her  from 
the  outrageous  descriptions  of  Captain  Image  and  Mr. 
Balgarnie. 

Now,  as  regards  the  matter  of  that  £60,  Carter,  to  put 
the  matter  bluntly,  had  lied.  With  the  King  of  Okky 
doing  what  he  could  to  keep  the  country  side  in  a  ferment, 
to  go  up  into  the  bush  even  with  a  strong  party,  and  well 
provided,  was  risky.  To  go  with  empty  pockets,  and  with 
no  following,  seemed  very  little  short  of  suicide. 

But  Carter  refused  to  see  it  in  this  light.  "  I'm  tough," 
he  told  himself,  "  and  I've  worked  up  a  certain  reputation 
for  ju-ju.  If  I  use  my  wits  I  shall  get  through,  and  be 
successful.  I  absolutely  refuse  to  die  here  in  Africa.  I've 
promised  to  marry  Laura,  and,  let  it  cost  what  it  may, 
I'm  going  to  do  it.  I  must;  I've  promised;  and,  besides, 
she's  absolutely  no  other  prospect  before  her.  But  I  do 


202  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

wish  to  goodness  I'd  a  decent  shotgun.  I'm  no  kind  of 
hand  with  this  badly  balanced  Winchester." 

So,  with  a  high  courage,  he  addressed  himself  to  de- 
parture, and  invited  White-Man's-Trouble  with  the  prom- 
ise of  goods,  lands,  goats,  wives,  guns,  and  the  other  things 
that  go  to  make  up  a  Krooboy  competency,  to  accompany 
him.  It  was  without  surprise  that  he  received  a  flat  re- 
fusal. 

"  0  Carter,"  said  his  servant,  "  I  no  fit  for  lib  for 
bush.  I  got  'nother  palaver  too-much-important  here  at 
factory.  Dem  headman  of  factory  boys  say  to  me,  '  Sar, 
you  been  stand-by-at-crane  boy  on  steamah?  An'  I  say, 
*  Sar,  I  plenty-much-too-good  educate.'  And  he  say  to 
me,  '  Sar,  you  fit  for  lib  here  an'  take  dem  job  of  second 
headman  ? '  An'  I  say  to  him,  '  Sar,  I  fit.'  0  Carter,  if 
I  lib  for  bush  with  you,  an'  let  Okky-men  spear  me,  an* 
leopards  chop  me,  I  dam  fool." 

"  You're  a  cheerful  animal.  If  you  think  you  are  more 
likely  to  get  an  archbishopric  by  staying  here,  by  all  means 
stay.  Hope  you'll  like  the  Dutchmen  when  they  come." 

White-Man's-Trouble  crooked  a  bunch  of  fingers,  and 
scratched  his  ribs.  "  0  Carter,  dem  Dutchman  all-e-same 
bush-Englishmen  ?  " 

"  You've  got  it  in  once.  I've  no  doubt  they're  a  most 
degraded  lot." 

"  Dem  Dutchman  he  no  have  as  much  savvy  as  an  Eng- 
lishman?" 

"  Nowhere  near.  They  wouldn't  have  chucked  up  the 
factory  in  the  first  instance  if  they  had,  and  in  the  second 
no  Englishman  would  have  bought  it  back  again  at  such 
an  absurd  figure  as  they  were  fools  enough  to  pay  Missy 
Kate." 

"  0  Carter  ?  " 

"Well?" 


KATE   MEEEDITH,   FIFANCIEE  203 

"I  fit  for  steal  small-small  sometimes  from  English- 
men?" 

"  I  can  guarantee  that,  you  scamp." 

"Then,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble  triumphantly,  "I 
fit  for  steal  plenty-much-big  from  Dutchman,  an'  he  no 
savvy." 

"  You'll  taste  abundance  of  chiquot,  my  lad." 

"  The  Krooboy  snapped  a  piebald  thumb  and  finger.  "  I 
take  chiquot  from  Englishman,  not  from  bush-English- 
man. If  he  flog  me  with  chiquot,  I  put  ju-ju  6n  him — " 
He  picked  up  an  empty  bottle  and  handled  it  thoughtfully. 
"  Ju-ju,  if  dem  Dutchmen  give  me  chiquot." 

"  Of  the  powdered-glass  variety  in  his  morning  sausage," 
said  Carter  thoughtfully.  "  Well,  it  would  be  no  use  warn- 
ing the  poor  devils,  because,  in  the  first  place,  they  wouldn't 
believe  me,  and  in  the  second  they'd  get  it  all  the  same. 
I  guess  these  new  colonizers  must  worry  out  the  methods 
of  dealing  with  the  natives  for  themselves,  as  their  betters 
did  before  them.  And  for  myself,  I  fancy  a  knapsack  will 
be  the  wear.  Thank  the  Lord,  I've  tramped  a  good  many 
hundred  miles  with  one  before." 

Now,  Carter  was  strong,  and  he  carried,  moreover,  a  high 
courage  and  a  fierce  energy,  which  even  the  steamy  atmos- 
phere of  the  West  Coast  could  not  damp.  Malaria  he  had 
with  a  certain  regular  periodicity,  but  he  was  one  of  those 
rare  men  who  threw  off  the  attacks  with  speed,  and  suf- 
fered little  from  their  after  effects.  He  was  essentially 
moderate  in  his  habits  of  life,  carrying  a  healthy  hunger 
but  never  overeating,  being  neither  a  drunkard  nor  a 
teetotaller  through  fear  of  drink.  Moreover,  he  did  not 
abuse  quinine,  coffee,  tobacco  or  drugs.  As  a  consequence, 
in  that  much-anathematized  climate  he  preserved  a  very 
level  health  and  energy,  and  owned  a  normal  mind  where 
most  men  were  either  hysterical  or  morbid. 


204  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

He  had  come  ashore  at  Malla-Nulla,  when  he  first  landed 
on  that  ugly  beach  from  the  M'poso,  with  two  Gladstone 
bags.  One  of  these  had  been  looted  by  some  light-fingered 
merchant  of  the  interior.  The  other  still  remained  with 
him,  and  had  journeyed  to  Mokki.  Its  notable  tint  of 
yellow  had  long  since  vanished.  In  places  it  was  mottled 
black  with  mildew,  and  the  rest  of  the  surface  was  a  good 
mulatto  brown.  The  fastenings  had  burst,  and  been  re- 
placed by  rope. 

He  looked  at  it  with  a  moment's  indecision.  It  would 
make  a  vastly  ugly  knapsack — but — it  represented  one  of 
his  few  remaining  possessions  in  the  world.  (The  £60, 
or,  to  be  precise,  the  sum  of  £57  6s.  10d.,  which  he  had 
forced  Laura  to  carry  off,  had  emptied  his  purse  to  the 
dregs.)  And  as  he  could  not  make  up  his  mind  to  desert 
the  bag,  he  packed  what  things  he  thought  essential  within 
its  leaky  leather  sides,  arranged  rope  beckets  for  his  shoul- 
ders, slung  it  on  his  back,  tucked  the  Winchester  aforesaid 
under  his  arm,  and  set  off  down  the  narrow  forest  road 
which  ben  Hossein  had  indicated,  without  further  word  of 
farewell  with  anybody. 

The  heat  of  noon  had  just  faded,  but  the  eighteen-inch 
wide  road  was  walled  in  with  dense  high  bush,  and  the 
air  down  in  that  narrow  cut  was  breathless  and  stagnant. 
When  the  road  curved  away  from  the  sun  and  the  high 
walls  threw  a  shadow,  Carter  waited  for  a  moment  and 
panted ;  when  the  sun  teemed  rays  of  molten  brass  directly 
down  on  him  from  overhead,  he  hurried ;  and  so  moved  on 
at  an  average  gait  of  three  miles  to  the  hour,  which  is 
good  travelling  for  West  Africa. 

It  is  curious  how  the  brain  works  in  these  hours  of  dis- 
comfort and  abnormal  stress.  The  one  thing  that  occu- 
pied Carter's  mind  was  a  rather  good  specimen  of  Okky 
war  horn.  It  had  been  of  ivory,  massive,  well-carved,  and 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  205 

with  a  mouthpiece  of  more  than  usual  elaboration.  In  fact, 
it  was  the  finest  specimen  he  had  come  across,  and  he  was 
a  judge.  He  had  purchased  it  from  its  native  owner  to 
copy  for  Mr.  Balgarnie's  markets.  But  he  had  seen  Kate's 
eye  upon  it  just  before  the  Frau  Probst  took  her  away,  and 
with  the  impulse  of  the  moment  had  given  it  to  her.  She 
took  it  at  once,  and  thanked  him  lightly  enough,  and  he 
told  himself,  forgot  it  a  moment  later.  A  thousand  times 
he  called  himself  an  ass  for  trying  to  keep  in  her  memory. 
What  was  he,  a  factory  clerk,  to  Miss  O'Neill  ?  And  what, 
indeed,  was  Miss  O'Neill  to  him — an  engaged  man? 

The  bush  rustled  back  at  him:  "Laura  is — well,  what 
you  know.  Laura's  got  a  lick  of  the  tar  brush.  Laura 
is  probably  the  identical  person  a  certain  reverend  gentle- 
man in  Upper  Wharfedale  especially  warned  you  against. 
Laura  may  pass  muster  in  Grand  Canary,  but  she  won't 
do  further  North.  Fancy  Laura  in  Wharfedale !  "  Good 
God,  in  Wharfedale !  Now  he  came  to  think  of  it,  he  had 
never  talked  to  Laura  about  home,  and  the  moors,  and 
the  grouse,  and  the  roses. 

He  laughed  noisily  at  his  fancies,  and  a  flock  of  red 
and  gray  parrots  came  on  to  the  tree  tops  above  and  cawed 
at  him.  Well,  after  all,  there  were  plenty  of  Englishmen 
who  lived  out  of  England.  He  might  initiate  a  new  era. 
He  might  be  one  of  the  first  English  colonists  who  looked 
upon  West  Africa  as  a  home,  not  a  place  of  exile.  He 
rubbed  the  sweat  from  his  face  with  a  long  forefinger  and 
plodded  on —  Why  not  ?  He  seemed  to  have  the  knack  of 
health.  Why  should  not  he  and  Laura  become  powers  in 
the  Oil  Rivers  ?  They  might  well  rise  to  the  rule  of  cities 
and  territories. 

Then  a  voice  brought  him  to  earth  again.  Someone 
hailed  him  from  the  rear.  "  Carter,  0  Carter !  " 

It  was  the  excellent  White-Man's-Trouble,  who  came  up 


206  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

sullen,  frightened  and  abusive.  His  cheek-bones  were  whit- 
ened with  lime,  in  token  of  some  ju-ju  charm.  He  took 
over  the  battered  Gladstone  bag,  and  balanced  it  on  the 
centre  plot  of  his  own  elaborately  shaven  cranium. 

"I  no  fit  for  lib  at  dem  factory  an'  know  you  carry 
dem  load  in  dem  dam-fool  way,"  said  the  Krooboy  crustily. 

They  pulled  up  that  night  at  a  small  terror-shivering 
village,  and  quartered  themselves  on  the  headman.  He 
made  no  secret  of  his  displeasure  at  their  visit.  Carter 
talked  of  the  glories  of  Mokki,  and  the  advantages  of 
having  a  steady  stream  of  trade  pouring  through  one's  ter- 
ritory. The  headman  pointed  out  with  peevish  annoyance 
that  the  King  of  Okky  frowned  upon  Mokki  in  particular 
and  trade  in  general,  and  that  the  King's  displeasure  was 
generally  fatal  to  those  on  whom  it  fell,  even  though  they 
had  the  happiness  to  live  beyond  his  marches.  But  in  spite 
of  his  gloomy  reception,  he  set  before  his  guests  a  portly 
bowl  of  kanki,  when  his  women  had  cooked  it,  and  himself 
ate  a  pawful  from  the  calabash  as  a  testimonial  to  its  free- 
dom from  poison. 

They  spread  their  sleeping  mats  that  night  in  the  dark 
hut  from  which  the  headman's  fowls  had  been  driven 
to  make  room  for  them,  and  next  morning  Carter  collected 
some  wing  feathers  and  some  bits  of  wood,  and  made  a 
windmill  to  amuse  the  children  who  swarmed  about  the 
compound.  Presently  there  arrived  the  headman,  who  saw 
the  toy  spinning  in  the  breeze,  and  annexed  it.  He  and 
White-Man's-Trouble  harangued  one  another  with  much 
noise  and  gesture,  and  then  there  was  a  bustle  in  the  vil- 
lage, and  the  cooking  fires  burned  strongly.  The  head- 
man's gloom  had  dropped  from  him  like  a  discarded  cloth ; 
he  wore  in  its  place  an  air  of  oily  obsequiousness  that 
showed  he  could  be  quite  the  courtier  upon  occasion. 

They   breakfasted   that   morning   on   no    mere   kanki. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  207 

"Dem,"  said  White-Man's- Trouble,  pointing  to  the  three 
great  bowls,  "  dem  hen-chop,  dem  monkey-chop,  an'  dem 
dug-chop." 

"  Quack-quack  dug  ?  " 

"  No,  bow-wow  dug." 

"  Ugh ! "  said  Carter,  "  I'll  leave  these  rich  dainties  to 
you  and  His  Nibs  there.  Let  me  have  a  go  at  the  stewed 
fowl.  Great  Christopher!  No  wonder  rubber's  so  hard 
to  collect  in  this  country  when  they  use  up  so  much  to 
make  legs  for  their  chickens.  Well,  thank  heaven  for 
sound  teeth  and  a  tough  inside ! " 

"  I  tell  dem  headman,"  said  the  Krooboy  when  they 
had  started  their  day's  march,  "that  dem  windmill  will 
be  fine  ju-ju.  I  say  to  him,  'You  savvy  dem  fight  at 
Smooth  River  factory?'  An'  he  savvy  plenty.  All  the 
bush  savvy  of  dem  fight.  So  I  tell  him  me  an'  you,  we 
keep  dem  Okky-men  away  by  ourselves,  an'  shoot  most 
of  them,  an'  kill  more  by  dem  talking-god.  So  dem  head- 
man savvy  we  plenty-big  ju-ju  men,  an'  we  no  fit  eat  kanki 
for  breakfast." 

"  My  dear  Trouble,  your  powers  of  diplomacy  are  only 
equalled  by  your  personal  appearance.  Keep  it  up.  If 
your  eloquence  can  carry  us  through  the  country  on  the 
free  hotel  list  it  will  save  a  lot  of  trouble  both  for  us  and 
for  everybody  else  we  come  near.  I  like  to  think  of  myself 
as  an  adventurous  knight  exploring  the  black  heart  of 
Africa,  but  I  suppose  in  the  States  they'd  call  us  a  pair 
of  hoboes,  and  set  the  watch-dogs  at  us —  Gee !  Look  at 
that ! " 

The  rifle  dropped  to  Carter's  shoulder  and  cracked.  A 
herd  of  small  deer  were  crossing  the  narrow  road  ahead 
of  them,  and  one  of  them  tripped  and  fell,  and  there  was 
payment  for  their  next  night's  lodging. 

Thirteen  days'  march  Ali  ben  Hossein  had  called  it  to 


208 

the  hill  where  an  unnamed  river  scoured  the  foot  of  a  red- 
streaked  bluff,  and  Carter,  who  was  lean  and  strong  and 
wiry,  nattered  himself  on  being  able  to  walk  as  well  as 
any  Moslem  in  Hausaland.  But  the  fact  remained  that 
more  than  three  times  thirteen  days  passed  before  they 
reached  the  place,  and  the  perils  of  the  way  proved  many 
and  glaring.  In  some  of  the  villages  the  headmen  proved 
hospitable;  in  others  they  would  have  neither  truck  nor 
dealing  with  any  callers  whatever. 

The  country  was  full  of  war  and  unrest,  and  there  was 
no  doubt  that  it  was  desperately  poor.  The  cassava  grounds 
were  unplanted,  the  millet  was  unsown,  the  banana  gardens 
were  wantonly  slashed  and  ruined.  The  small  bush  farmer 
is  a  creature  of  nerves,  and  he  stands  adversity  badly.  Put 
him  under  a  strong  over-lord,  and  he  will  serve  gladly  and 
efficiently.  Leave  him  to  himself,  and  when  things  go 
awry  with  him  for  too  many  weeks  together  he  is  apt  to 
*  suddenly  give  up  the  struggle,  and  sit  down  with  chin  on 
his  knees,  and  quietly  starve  to  death.  One  cannot  reckon 
far  upon  the  moods  of  a  man  who  is  ridiculously  unen- 
thusiastic  over  his  own  life  or  his  neighbors'. 

But  at  one  place  they  marched  in  upon  red  war. 

The  village  lay  amongst  its  farm  lands  in  a  break  of  the 
forest,  and  the  gaps  between  the  houses  had  been  filled 
with  thorns.  Shots  came  from  it  at  intervals,  and  were 
answered  by  the  shots  of  invisible  marksmen  who  lay 
within  the  edge  of  the  forest.  The  sun  glared  high  over- 
head in  a  fleckless  sky.  The  air  was  salt  with  the  smoke 
of  the  crude  trade  powder. 

White-Man's-Trouble  counselled  retreat. 

"  Yes,  that's  all  right,"  said  Carter  irritably.  "  N"o  one 
wants  to  ram  his  head  into  a  scrap  less  than  I  do.  But 
where  the  deuce  can  we  go  to?  There's  been  no  single 
branch  to  this  road  we've  come  along,  and  the  bush  on  each 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  209 

side  is  about  the  thickest  in  Africa.  Nothing  short  of  a 
regiment  of  men  with  matchets  would  make  a  path  through 
it  anywhere.  Going  back  to  that  last  village  means  getting 
skewered.  All  the  way  along  I've  been  wondering  how 
on  earth  we  got  out  of  it  without  having  at  least  ten  spears 
rammed  into  each  of  us." 

"  0  Carter,  I  no  fit  to  go  get  mixed  in  dem  fight 
palaver." 

"  You're  so  beastly  unoriginal.  Why  go  on  repeating 
the  same  thing  ?  I'd  like  further  to  point  out  that  we've 
not  had  a  bite  to  eat  for  twenty-four  hours,  and  I  person- 
ally can't  go  on  living  on  my  own  fat  without  inconven- 
ience, as  you  seem  to  do." 

"  No  savvy." 

"  Well,  to  translate,  I  say  I  plenty-much  fit  for  chop." 

White-Man's-Trouble  rubbed  the  waistband  of  his  trou- 
sers tenderly.  "  Me,  too,"  he  admitted. 

"  Then,  as  there  is  only  starvation  and  other  unpleasant 
things  behind,  I'm  going  ahead  to  prospect.  Gee !  There's 
somebody  on  this  side  with  a  rifle.  And,  by  Christopher, 
there's  another  rifle  in  the  village  shooting  back ! " 

The  flintlock  trade  guns  roared  out  at  intervals,  and 
every  now  and  again  there  came  the  sharp  bark  of  smoke- 
less powder,  and  its  clean  whop-whop  of  a  bullet  from  a 
modern  rifle.  By  careful  watching  Carter  decided  that 
there  was  only  one  rifle  on  each  side,  and  he  further  made 
out  that  one  was  bombarding  the  other  to  the  exclusion 
of  all  lesser  interests. 

Now  when  a  man  has  hunger  gnawing  at  the  inside  of 
his  ribs,  and  knows,  moreover,  that  any  movement  in  re- 
treat will  be  fatal,  it  does  not  take  much  to  spur  him  on 
to  an  advance.  So  Carter  went  cautiously  ahead,  keeping 
well  under  the  fringe  of  the  cover,  and  White-Man's- 
Trouble,  who  was  copiously  afraid,  and  who  muttered  evil 


1810  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

things  under  his  breath  in  Kroo,  hung  on  to  the  remains 
of  the  Gladstone  bag  and  crouched  along  at  his  heels. 

Carter  took  a  step  at  a  time,  and  was  cautious  always 
not  to  rustle  a  leaf  or  tread  on  a  dead  branch.  So  he 
pushed  his  way  ahead,  and  when  the  Krooboy,  with  less 
dexterity,  blundered  and  made  the  shadow  of  a  noise,  he 
turned  upon  him  with  such  a  look  of  ferocity  that  it  awed 
even  so  cross-grained  a  person  as  White-Man' s-Trouble.  A 
dozen  times  Carter  nearly  walked  on  to  the  heels  of  one 
or  other  of  the  attacking  force,  and  as  often  drew  off  un- 
noticed; and  at  last  he  made  his  way  to  the  place  where 
he  had  located  the  rifle  fire,  and  was  closing  in  on  it  from 
behind,  when  of  a  sudden  he  was  confronted  with  a  rifle 
muzzle  which  suddenly  spirted  up  from  the  middle  of  a 
clump  of  bush. 

It  swung  up  till  it  covered  the  left  side  of  his  chest, 
and  hung  steady  there  for  an  appreciable  number  of  sec- 
onds, and  then  a  very  well-known  voice  said,  "  Well,  Mr. 
Carter,  I  congratulate  you  on  keeping  your  nerve  in  spite 
of  the  climate." 

"Gee!"  said  Carter  under  his  breath.  "That's  old 
Swizzle-Stick  Smith." 

"I  beg  your  pardon?" 

"  I  said  I'm  sure  that's  Mr.  Smith." 

A  bald  head,  garnished  with  an  eyeglass,  shaggy  gray 
hair  and  a  shaggy  beard,  came  forth.  "  May  I  ask  what 
you  are  doing  here?  Thrown  up  your  commission  by  any 
chance  ?  " 

"  Exactly  that." 

"  On  your  own  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  starvation's  my  master  at  present." 

"  Oh,  I  beg  pardon.  Go  into  the  mess  and  order  what 
you'll  have.  Or  look  here,  I've  shot  my  man,  so  I'm  free 
for  the  moment,  and  I'll  come  with  you.  Whiskey  we're 


KATE   MEEEDITH,   FINANCIEK  211 

out  of,  but  I  can  recommend  gin  and  soda.  We  looted  a 
sparklet  machine,  by  the  way,  from  the  Frenchman/' 

They  worked  cautiously  back  from  the  firing  line,  and 
came  upon  a  mean  lean-to  of  boughs  and  thatch  which  Mr. 
Smith  referred  to  as  "my  headquarters."  As  the  mess- 
sergeant  happened  to  be  away,  Mr.  Smith  kindly  produced 
from  under  the  eaves  a  damp  slab  of  translucent  cassava 
bread,  which  was  obviously  all  the  place  contained  in  the 
way  of  food,  and  extracting  a  square-faced  bottle  from  a 
green  box  of  trade  gin,  poured  out  half  a  calabash  t  full, 
added  muddy  water  from  a  chattie,  and  offered  it  to  his 
guest. 

"  Come  to  think  of  it,  that's  more  healthy  for  you  than 
soda,  Mr.  Carter.  So  you're  not  up  here  on  O'Neill  and 
Craven's  service,  you  tell  me  ?  " 

"  No ;  handed  in  my  papers,  sir.  I'm  passing  through 
here  on  urgent  private  affairs/' 

Mr.  Smith  put  a  hand  inside  his  shabby  pyjama  coat 
and  produced  a  piece  of  new  black-watered  silk  ribbon, 
on  the  end  of  which  was  an  eyeglass.  He  screwed  this  in 
place,  and  stared  at  his  guest. 

"  Ah,  then  in  that  case,  Mr.  Carter,  I  shall  have  to  hear 
more  of  your  projects  before  I  can  give  you  permission 
to  pass  through  my  territory." 

Carter  stiffened.  "  Your  territory  ?  Oh,  I  remember. 
You've  been  buying  up  rubber  lands,  of  course,  for  the 
firm." 

"  As  a  point  of  fact,  I  have  not  been  worrying  about  the 
firm  very  lately.  When  I  said  'my  territory,'  I  meant 
exactly  that,  neither  more  nor  less.  Later  I  may  turn  it 
over  to  British  protection.  But  recently  it  was  no  man's 
land,  and  as  that  infernal  blackguard,  the  King  of  Okky, 
was  after  it,  I  seized  it  for  myself." 

"  Hear,  hear,"  said  Carter.     "  As  the  King  of  Okky  was 


212  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

once  indecently  keen  on  adding  my  head  to  his  private 
collection,  I  can  never  be  really  fond  of  that  man,  some- 
how." 

"  Confound  your  head,  sir !  That  had  nothing  to  do 
with  it.  I  didn't  quarrel  with  the  man  for  following  out 
his  ordinary  African  methods.  I'm  going  for  him  for  let- 
ting in  the  French." 

Carter  was  clearly  puzzled.  "What  on  earth  have  the 
French  to  do  with  it?" 

"  Exactly  what  they  had  to  do  with  all  the  British  West 
African  colonies.  We  hold  a  seaboard,  and  when  the  men 
on  the  spot  try  to  consolidate  an  influence  in  the  hinter- 
land, our  Foreign  Office  promptly  truckles  to  the  Anti- 
British  party  at  home  and  tells  them  to  drop  it.  The 
Anti-British  party  says,  '  Oh  no,  we  mustn't  make  a  sphere 
of  influence  there.  The  Germans  want  it,  or  the  French 
have  set  their  minds  on  it,  or  why  shouldn't  poor  dear 
Portugal  have  a  chance  there?  But  whatever  you  do, 
don't  give  it  to  nasty,  greedy  Great  Britain.'  And  unless 
the  hand  of  the  Foreign  Office  is  absolutely  forced,  they 
always  do  as  the  Anti-Britishers  ask.  You  see  the  Anti- 
British  party  is  noisy  and  hysterical,  and  always  shrieking 
that  it  can  command  countless  votes."  Mr.  Smith  limped 
across  the  hut  and  sat  on  a  green  case  and  emphasized 
his  further  remarks  with  a  powder-stained  forefinger. 

"  Well/'  he  said,  "  it's  an  old  game  with  me,  and  after 
all  the  official  kicks  I've  had  I  ought  to  have  dropped  it 
years  ago.  But  somehow  I  couldn't  resist  the  temptation. 
The  King  of  Okky  is  our  man  by  geography  and  agreement. 
I  have  made  representations  to  the  F.  0.,  till  I  am  sick 
of  putting  pen  to  paper,  that  he  ought  to  be  recognized 
and  patted  on  the  back.  They  don't  even  take  the  trouble 
to  reply,  much  less  carry  out  the  suggestions.  Therefore 
the  French,  who  have  taken  hold  of  the  hinterland,  have 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  213 

done  the  obvious.  They  sent  down  a  sort  of  fourth-rate 
tin-pot  sous-officier,  and  told  him  that  if  he  fixed  up  things 
all  right  for  France  they'd  give  him  a  commission  and  a 
500  francs  gratuity ;  and  as  he'd  absolutely  no  competitors, 
he  naturally  did  the  trick." 

"  What  a  beastly  shame !  "  Carter  blurted  out,  and  then 
felt  surprised  at  himself.  It  was  about  the  first  time  in 
his  life  that  the  Englishman  that  was  within  him  had  ever 
peeped  out  upon  the  surface. 

"  I  know  what  the  man's  expedition  cost — practically 
nothing.  I  saw  the  presents  he  gave  old  Kallee — £50 
would  have  covered  them.  And  for  that,  and  a  mouthful 
of  empty  words,  he  gets  half  a  million  square  miles  of 
territory,  and  trade  of  a  present  value  of  £100,000,  and  a 
potential  value  of  £750,000,  at  a  low  estimate.  Well,  Mr. 
Carter,  I'm  braver  than  our  F.  0.  I'm  going  to  buck 
against  the  Anti-British  party,  and  I'm  going  to  see  that 
we  keep  in  our  own  hands  what  rightly  belongs  to  us.  I 
shall  be  called  a  pirate,  but  that  doesn't  disturb  me.  I  lost 
all  the  reputation  I  had  to  lose  at  this  same  game  years 
ago.  I  was  doing  my  duty  here  then  in  West  Africa.  A 
smug  little  beast  of  a  newspaper  man  got  up  in  the  House 
of  Commons  and  demanded  my  dismissal.  He  would  never 
have  been  heard  of  if  he  hadn't  been  consistently  Anti- 
British  on  every  occasion  when  the  country  was  in  dis- 
agreement with  anyone  else.  But  it  was  his  dirty  line, 
and  it  brought  him  a  certain  disgraceful  notoriety,  which 
•was  what  he  was  after.  He  could  command  votes,  or  said 
he  could,  and  the  Government  believed  him.  They  didn't 
care  particularly  for  England ;  their  one  interest  was  keep- 
ing their  party  in  office;  and  as  1  was  a  nuisance,  I  had 
to  go.  It  wasn't  a  case  of  being  actually  broke,  you  must 
understand,  Mr.  Carter,  but  they  made  things  so  awkward 
that  I  had  to  send  in  my  papers  all  the  same.  They  tried 


214  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

the  same  game  with  Rhodes,  and  Curzon,  and  Milner,  the 
dirty  little  curs.  They  hate  a  man  who  tries  to  uphold 
Great  Britain's  dignity  or  give  her  another  acre  of  terri- 
tory. 

"  But  here  now,  thank  the  Lord,  I  personally  am  un- 
official, and  I'm  doing  exactly  what  I  know  to  be  best  with- 
out fear  or  favor  of  anybody." 

"  How  far  does  your  territory  extend,  sir  ?  " 

"  As  far  as  I  can  make  it,"  said  Mr.  Smith  dryly. 

"Are  you  going  to  let  it  be  developed  by  the  white 
man?" 

"  Assuredly." 

"  Then,"  said  Carter,  "  we  shan't  clash,  and  I'm  sure  you 
will  give  me  my  passports.  I  don't  know  whether  the 
place  I  am  making  for  is  in  your  territory  or  the  next 
king's,  but  I'm  going  there  purely  for  purposes  of  develop- 
ment. I  tell  you  frankly,  I  haven't  a  bit  of  ambition  at 
present  beyond  making  a  pile.  If  ever  I  find  myself  a  rich 
man  I  may  take  a  hand  in  the  thankless  game  you  are 
on  at  here.  But  that's  in  the  future.  In  the  meanwhile, 
if  the  question  is  not  indiscreet,  might  one  ask  if  it  was 
a  Frenchman  you  were  having  that  rifle  duel  with  just 
now?" 

"  The  Frenchman's  down  with  fever.  I  was  exchanging 
shots  with  a  soldier  of  fortune  who  is,  I  believe,  an  old 
acquaintance  of  yours.  Kwaka  his  name  is." 

"  Great  Christopher !  what  a  small  place  West  Africa  is. 
Old  Kallee  sent  Kwaka  down  to  borrow  my  head  for  his 
collection,  and  after  the  way  I  bamboozled  that  man  I 
shouldn't  have  been  surprised  if  he'd  been  struck  off  the 
Okky  army  list.  Did  you — er — make  a  clean  job  of  him?  " 

"  Winged  only,  I  think.     He  kept  very  well  to  cover." 

"  You  weie  both  blazing  away  for  long  enough." 

"Well,"  chuckled  Mr.   Smith,  "I'm  afraid  he  hardly 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  215 

had  a  fair  chance  at  me.  You  see,  I'd  a  boy  with  a  trade 
gun  lying  under  a  log  a  dozen  yards  to  my  right,  and  I'd 
a  string  from  my  foot  to  his  trigger.  "When  I  loosed  off 
the  Winchester  I  pulled  the  other  gun  too,  and  Kwaka  shot 
for  the  smoke  every  time,  and  made  very  good  practice  of 
it.  That  log  would  be  worth  mining  for  lead." 

"When  you  take  the  place  what  shall  you  do  with  the 
Frenchman  ?  " 

"  Just  the  same  that  he  would  do  with  me,"  said  the 
old  man  grimly.  "Now  suppose  we  change  the  subject. 
The  bush  telegraphs  have  been  persistently  talking  about 
a  white  woman  who's  been  upsetting  the  face  of  Africa, 
especially  about  our  factories.  Heard  anything  of  her  ?  " 

Carter  laughed  shortly.  "  Of  course  I've  heard.  In 
fact,  she's  why  I'm  here.  She's  Miss  Kate  O'Neill." 

The  old  man  dropped  his  eyeglass  to  the  end  of  its  rib- 
bon, fumbled  for  it  till  he  caught  it  again,  and  three  times 
tried  to  screw  it  in  place  before  he  got  it  fixed.  "  Kate 
O'Neill,  you  say?  She'd  be  about  twenty — no,  twenty- 
three  years  old  ?  " 

"  I'm  a  bad  judge,  but  I  daresay  she'd  be  about  that. 
Why,  do  you  know  her,  sir  ?  " 

Mr.  Smith  straightened  himself  with  an  obvious  effort. 
"  As  I  have  not  been  to  England  for  five-and-twenty  years, 
is  it  likely  ?  You  said  she  was  English,  I  think  ?  " 

"  As  a  point  of  fact,  I  did  not,  though  presumably  she 
is  English.  She  was  not  the  late  Godfrey  O'Neill's  real 
relative.  She  was  adopted,  so  I  heard.  But  he  left  her 
the  business  for  all  that,  and  she's  making  it  hum.  She's 
marvellously  able.  But  of  course  you  have  seen  for  your- 
self more  of  her  efforts  than  I  have,  sir." 

"  I  have  seen  them  ?  " 

Carter  laughed.  "  I'm  afraid  you  made  the  same  mis- 
take that  everybody  else  made,  from  Slade  and  old  Image. 


216  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

She  is  the  K.  O'Neill  of  the  kindly-buck-up-and-get-it-done 
letters.  She  is  the  Mr.  K.  that  you  chaffed  n  e  about  at 
Malla-Nulla  for  admiring  so  much  as  a  business  man." 

"  My  God ! "  said  Swizzle-Stick  Smith,  and  sat  back 
limply  against  the  wall  of  the  hut,  and  then  "  My  God !  " 
he  said  again. 

Carter  hesitated,  and  then,  "  Did  you,"  he  ventured, 
"  know  Miss  Kate's  own  people  before  the  late  Godfrey 
took  her  over  ?  " 

Mr.  Smith,  with  an  obvious  effort,  pulled  himself  to- 
gether. "  I  did,  Mr.  Carter.  Her  mother — she — she  died. 
Her  father  went  under.  He  had  a  pretty  trying  time  of 
il,  first,  but  when^the  pinch  came  he  went  under  most 
thoroughly.  Godfrey  O'Neill,  good  fellow  that  he  was, 
took  the  child  then,  and  so  she  got  her  chance,  and, 
thank  heaven,  she's  used  it." 

Carter  looked  at  the  old  man  narrowly.  "  And  is  the 
father  alive  now  ?  " 

But  by  this  time  Mr.  Smith  was  his  old  cool,  profane 
self  again.  "  How  the  devil  should  I  know  ?  Do  you 
think  I  keep  track  of  all  the  failures  in  Africa?  You 
seem  very  interested  in  this  young  woman  yourself.  May 
I  ask  if  you've  any  aspirations  in  that  direction  ?  " 

"  If  you  mean  have  I  any  wish  to  marry  her,  I  can 
answer  that  best  by  telling  you  that  I'm  engaged  to  marry 
Laura  Slade." 

"Ah,  I  see.  Well,  Mr.  Carter,  we  will  drop  the  sub- 
ject, which  is  a  painful  one  to  me  for  many  reasons.  Let 
us  get  on  to  your  personal  schemes.  In  what  way  can  I 
forward  them?" 


CHAPTEE     XV 
TIN  HILL:  THE  MINE 

X 

TIN  HILL,  when  they  got  to  it,  carried  riches  that  lay 
in  full  view  of  the  sky.  The  mountain  of  country  rock 
which  held  the  veins  reared  up  out  of  the  dark  green  bush, 
red-streaked  and  barren,  and  the  last  day's  march  towards 
it  lay  through  a  heavy  growth  of  rubber  vines.  Even  the 
Krooboy  could  not  help  noticing  these. 

"  0  Carter,"  he  said,  "  rubber  lib  for  here.  Dem  Missy 
Kate  she  say  rubber-palaver  beat  oil-palaver,  an'  kernels, 
an'  gum,  all-e-same  cocked  hat." 

"  She  didn't.  Those  are  my  words  of  wisdom  you've  got 
hold  of.  Still  I  admit  the  sentiments  are  Miss  O'Neill's. 
But  the  main  thing  is,  Trouble,  that  rubber  takes  capital 
and  labor  to  handle,  and  this  firm's  short  of  both  at  the 
moment.  We'll  leave  rubber  to  Miss  O'Neill  for  the 
present." 

"  0  Carter,  dem  Missy  Kate,  she  no  fit  for  love  you 
now?" 

"  She  no  fit,"  said  Carter,  with  a  sigh,  "  because  you 
savvy  I  fit  for  do  wife-palaver  with  dem  Miss  Laura." 

The  last  marches  of  Ali  ben  Hoosein's  road  had  been 
little  travelled  during  these  latter  months  of  political  up- 
heaval, and  this  meant  that  the  ever-growing  bush  had  en- 
croached, and  passage  was  difficult.  Moreover,  food  was 
painfully  scarce.  Swizzle-Stick  Smith,  out  of  his  scanty 
store,  had  given  them  what  he  could,  but  this  was  soon 
eaten,  and  once  more  they  had  been  forced  to  fall  back  on 


218  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

that  marvellous  thing,  the  kola  nut.  But  though  nibbling 
kola  puts  off  the  desire  for  a  meal,  and  makes  one  able  to 
endure  prolonged  strains,  it  does  not  fill  gaps  in  the  inside. 

Both  Carter  and  the  Krooboy  were  very  gaunt,  and  tat- 
tered, and  savage-looking  when  at  last  they  arrived  at  the 
rock  and  the  river;  but  the  omens  seemed  to  change  from 
that  moment. 

To  begin  with,  Carter  had  a  snap-shot  at  a  gazelle  and 
brought  it  down.  They  lit  a  fire  where  they  were,  ate,  and 
felt  the  blessedness  of  being  full  for  the  first  time  for  a 
fortnight.  Then,  whilst  hunting  for  a  site  for  a  hut,  they 
came  across  a  clump  of  plantains,  wild  certainly,  and 
coarse,  but  filling  enough  to  men  who  had  long  outgrown 
any  niceties  of  palate.  And  at  the  farther  side  of  the 
plantains,  what  appeared  to  be  a  mere  cubical  mound  of 
greenery  disclosed  itself  upon  inspection  to  be  a  house. 

"  Ghosts,"  whimpered  White-Man's-Trouble,  and  shrank 
back. 

"  I  hope  so,"  said  Carter.  "  They'd  give  us  local  news, 
anyway,  and  might  be  amusing  to  talk  to.  But  I  never 
met  ghosts  outside  a  story-book,  and  I'm  afraid  there'll 
be  none  here.  I  wonder  who  lived  on  this  spot?  Stone 
house,  with  limed  walls  three  feet  six  thick,  and  a  flat  ce- 
ment roof.  Inside  area — phew!  it  smells  musty — twenty 
feet  by  twelve.  No,  by  Christopher !  there's  another  room 
on  beyond.  Storeroom  that — oh,  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Snake. 
My  mistake.  Good-afternoon !  " 

He  shot  out  into  the  open  again  by  the  doorway,  and 
several  snakes  who  resided  in  the  farther  room  made  exit 
by  the  window. 

"  When  in  doubt  as  to  the  authorship  of  any  West  Afri- 
can monument,  one  always  puts  it  down  to  the  early  Portu- 
guese," Carter  mused,  "  and  we'll  leave  it  at  that  for  the 
present.  Original  occupants  have  been  gone  any  time  these 


KATE    MEREDITH^    FINANCIER  219 

last  two  hundred  years.  Well,  if  we  strip  off  these  vines 
and  creepers  from  the  outside,  and  light  fires  inside  to 
sweeten  the  air  a  bit,  we  shall  have  the  most  palatial 
quarters.  The  question  now  is  whether  there  is  a  mine 
and  whether  it  is  worth  working." 

But  that  last  point  very  quickly  answered  itself.  Three 
great  veins  of  tin-stone  sliced  vertically  into  the  mother 
rock.  Two  of  them  were  forty  feet  wide,  the  third  was 
sixty.  The  face  ran  up  at  a  steep  angle,  and  a  great  beer- 
colored  river  swilled  away  at  its  foot,  and  undermined  it, 
and  with  the  help  of  the  sun,  kept  chattering  screes  always 
cascading  down  the  slope. 

"  This  isn't  a  mine,"  Carter  shouted  exultantly,  "  it's  a 
quarry!  Bring  a  steamer  up  alongside  here,  and  every 
man  that  works  could  shovel  two  hundred  sovereigns'  worth 
of  ore  into  her  from  these  dumps  each  hour  without  so 
much  as  putting  a  pick  in.  Why,  the  outcrops  are  scarcely 
leached  at  all.  When  we've  worked  twenty  yards  or  so  into 
the  veins  I'll  rig  a  temperley  transporter  and  guy  it  to 
these  rocks  above,  and  run  the  stuff  straight  from  where 
it  grew  into  a  steamer's  holds.  Great  Christopher!  Kate 
had  better  look  out:  I'm  not  going  to  let  her  be  the  only 
millionaire  on  earth." 

"  Dem  stones  with  yellow  glass  on  him  worth  money  ?  " 
asked  White-Man's-Trouble. 

"  Heaps." 

"In  Liverpool?" 

"Well,  say  Swansea  or  Cardiff;  practically  the  same 
thing." 

"  No  worth  money  here  ?  " 

"  I'd  sell  you  a  ton  for  a  fill  of  tobacco." 

"  How  you  get  it  to  coast  ?    You  no  fit  to  pay  carriers." 

"  By  water,  my  pagan  friend.  We  make  steamah  lib 
for  here." 


220  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

•  "  Steamah  no  fit,"  said  the  Krooboy,  and  spat  con- 
temptuously into  the  yellow  stream.  "  Dem  cappies  no 
savvy  way  here.  Dem  ribber  no  savvy  way  to  Coast." 

"  That's  a  bit  beyond  my  linguistic  powers.  You  must 
translate  some  more." 

"  Dem  ribber,"  the  Krooboy  explained  patiently,  "  no  fit 
for  run  to  dem  sea." 

"  Then  where  the  deuce  does  it  run  to  ?  Does  a  Ju-ju 
drink  it?" 

"  Ju-ju  no  fit  for  touch  dem  ribber,"  said  White-Man's- 
Trouble,  taking  the  question  literally.  "  But  dem  ribber 
run  into  dem  squidge-squidge,  an'  lib  for  die !  " 

"Runs  into  a  swamp  and  gets  lost!  My  great  Chris- 
topher, the  odds  are  you're  right.  But  why  in  the  name 
of  thunder  didn't  you  tell  me  that  before  ?  " 

"  I  no  savvy,"  said  the  Krooboy  simply,  "  where  you 
come.  0  Carter,  I  come  after  you  from  Mokki  because  I 
think  you  no  fit  for  carry  dem  bag." 

Carter  swung  round  and  picked  up  White-Man's- 
Trouble's  hand  and  shook  it  heartily.  "  You've  got  a  very 
white  inside  to  you,"  he  said. 

But  the  African  was  not  flattered.  He  pulled  away  his 
limp  hand  as  soon  as  it  was  set  free,  and  rubbed  his  abdo- 
men nervously.  "  0  Carter,  I  no  fit  for  white  inside.  I 
no  ju-ju  boy.  I  dam  common  Krooboy." 

Thence  onwards  there  was  impressed  on  Carter's  mind 
these  three  great  facts — One:  He  had  found  a  mine  of 
immense  potential  value.  Two:  He  could  never  turn  his 
minerals  into  cash  unless  he  could  find  a  water  channel 
down  to  the  Coast.  And  three :  If  he  couldn't  discover  that 
channel  himself  no  one  else  would,  at  any  rate  for  his 
benefit. 

He  thought  these  matters  over  during  one  torrid  night, 
and  resolved  to  devote  the  next  day  to  exploration.  He 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  221 

had  had  .predecessors  on  the  place,  house  building  predeces- 
sors who  had  left  a  series  of  rust-streaks  which  he  trans- 
lated into  mining  tools.  Presumably  they  were  Europeans. 
How  did  they  propose  to  deal  with  this  ore?  Smelt  it  on 
the  spot,  or  bag  it  and  get  it  to  the  Coast? 

If  they  were  West  African  Portuguese  of  the  olden  time, 
he  was  fully  aware  that  they  would  be  using  slave  labor  for 
everything,  and  he  tried  to  figure  out  if  it  was  possible, 
even  with  slave  porters,  to  carry  concentrates  down  to  the 
Coast  and  leave  a  sufficient  margin  for  profit.  Even  with 
the  most  liberal  estimates  he  could  not  make  it  so,  taking 
into  account  the  slow-sailing  ships,  the  crude  smelting 
methods,  and  the  lower  prices  of  the  old  days.  Remained 
then  the  passage  of  the  creek  and  river  channels,  and  if 
these  old  Portuguese  had  found  a  waterway,  why,  then,  so 
could  he. 

So  next  day  he  set  out  to  hunt  for  a  quay,  or  any  other 
traces  of  shipping  ore,  or  perhaps  some  evidences  of  boat- 
building, and  he  pressed  his  way  through  vine  and  bush, 
and  over  crag  and  scree,  till  the  scorching  heat  had  drained 
his  lean  body  of  moisture,  and  his  knees  zigzagged  beneath 
him  through  sheer  weakness  and  weariness. 

Then  he  made  a  discovery,  and  sat  down,  and  for  the 
moment  felt  faint  and  discouraged. 

He  had  nearly  walked  in  onto  the  top  of  a  native  village. 

He  had  been  going  down-wind,  or  the  smoke  of  their 
fires  would  have  warned  him  earlier.  As  it  was,  the  bark 
of  a  scavenger  dog  gave  him  the  first  hint  of  the  village's 
nearness,  or  he  would  have  descended  onto  its  roofs.  It 
lay  beneath  a  small  bluff,  and  its  houses  so  assimilated 
with  the  rest  of  the  forest  that  even  close  at  hand  it  was 
hard  to  pick  out  the  human  dwellings. 

It  was  the  hour  of  heat,  when  only  Englishmen  and  dogs 
(according  to  the  old  libel)  are  wont  to  be  abroad,  and  the 


222  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

village  slept.  Even  the  dogs  found  the  heat  too  great  for 
wakefulness,  so  that  only  the  Englishman  carried  an  open 
eye.  But  the  smell  of  the  place  advertised  it  as  a  village 
of  fishers,  and  a  closer  scrutiny  showed  the  harvest  of  the 
river,  gutted,  and  strung  up  upon  the  stripped  boughs  of 
trees  to  dry  in  the  outrageous  sun-heat.  There  are  always 
markets  for  these  dried  river  fish  throughout  all  West 
Africa. 

Carter  backed  into  thicker  cover,  and  waited  till  the 
sun  began  once  more  to  cast  a  shadow,  and  the  village 
woke.  First  the  dogs  opened  their  eyes  and  began  their 
endless  scavengers'  prowl.  Then  the  children  came  out  to 
play  in  the  dust.  Next  the  women  roused  to  do  the  village 
work.  And  last  of  all,  the  men  emerged  from  the  clumps 
of  bush,  which  one  had  to  accept  as  huts,  spear-armed  all 
of  them,  and  sat  in  the  patches  of  purple  shade,  and  over- 
saw all,  to  approve  and  direct. 

"You  lazy  hounds,"  said  the  Englishman  to  himself, 
"I  should  like  to  set  you  to  shoveling  ore  all  day,  and 
signing  checks  all  night  for  your  women's  bonnet  bills. 
But  then,"  he  reminded  himself  with  a  sigh,  "  there  are 
some  women  these  days  who  insist  on  working  themselves, 
however  hard  you  may  press  your  services." 

He  reported  his  find  to  White-Man's-Trouble  on  his  re- 
turn to  the  old  Portuguese  house  that  evening,  and  that 
worthy  was  seized  with  his  usual  tremors.  "  0  Carter," 
said  he,  "  dem  bushmen  that  live  by  fish-palaver  fit  for  be 
worst  kind  of  bushmen.  They  come  here  one  day  soon, 
an'  they  throw  spear  till  we  lib  for  die,  an'  they  chop  us 
afterwards.  You  savvy  ?  "  said  the  Krooboy,  with  a  whim- 
per and  a  shudder — "  chop  us  after  ?  " 

"  Don't  try  and  work  up  my  feelings  over  the  post-mor- 
tem, because  you  can't  do  it.  Once  dead,  what  happens 
to  my  vile  corpse  doesn't  interest  me.  But  I  don't  intend 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  223 

to  peg  out  yet,  especially  at  the  hands  of  a  pack  of  ignorant 
cannibals  like  these.  Observe,  Trouble.  You  have*  seen 
me  practise  ju-ju  already  ?  " 

"I  fit" 

"  And  you  have  been  my  assistant  in  the  black  art  ?  " 

The  Krooboy  shuddered,  but  he  said  sturdily  enough, 
"I  fit." 

"  Well  and  good.  Then  to-morrow  we  will  weave  infer- 
nal charms  over  this  pleasing  spot,  till  no  mere  black  man, 
be  he  cannibal  or  be  he  simple  fisherman,  will  dare  to  press 
his  sacrilegious  toes  upon  it." 

A  stream  of  water  poured  over  one  part  of  the  cliffs, 
that  Carter  designed  hereafter  for  a  power-plant  to  handle 
his  ores.  But  in  the  meanwhile  he  turned  it  to  a  more 
immediate  use.  He  cut  wide  bamboos,  and  fitting  them 
into  one  another,  formed  a  great  pipe  which  would  receive 
water  and  air  together.  With  stones,  and  clay,  and  grasses 
he  built  a  box  to  receive  the  air  and  water,  and  made  a 
cunningly  devised  trap  through  which  the  water  could 
escape,  but  not  the  air.  Then  with  more  bamboos  he  built 
him  organ  pipes  and  set  the  mouths  of  these  in  the  box, 
so  that  the  air  should  drive  through  them  and  blow  a  dis- 
mal note.  And  next,  with  further  ingenuity  he  fashioned 
a  commutating  valve,  also  worked  automatically  by  the 
water,  which  for  a  time  would  shut  off  the  water,  and  then 
set  it  going  again  to  thrill  the  air  with  the  notes  boo-paa- 
burnm,  in  ascending  scale,  and  a  minute  later  to  reply 
bumm-paa-boo. 

It  was  all  extremely  simple  when  one  knew  how  it  was 
done,  and  extremely  startling  to  walk  in  upon  from  the 
depths  of  a  primeval  African  forest,  and  the  fishers  of  the 
village,  when  the  sounds  first  broke  in  upon  their  nervous 
ears,  threw  themselves  down  upon  the  dust,  and  waited 
for  the  end  of  the  world,  which  they  felt  sure  was  at  hand. 


224  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

To  them  then  appeared  a  white  man  who  was  clothed 
from  head  to  foot  with  garlands  of  dark  green  leaves  of 
the  rubber  vine,  and  had  on  his  head  hair  which  was  of  the 
sacred  color  of  red.  He  was  followed  by  a  Krooboy  bear- 
ing the  blue  tribal  mark  between  his  brows,  and  having  a 
sheaf  of  feathers  stuck  above  his  right  ear,  where  the  or- 
dinary tooth-cleaning  stick  should  have  been  carried. 
These  explained  in  bold,  clear  tones  that  they  were  the 
chief  ju-ju  men  of  all  Africa,  and  that  the  portent  which 
was  even  then  boo-paa-bumm-ing  behind  them  was  sent  by 
powers  unseen  to  herald  their  coming.  But  they  did  not 
represent  the  evil,  the  harmful  ju-ju.  If  only  they  were 
treated  with  the  profound  respect  which  was  their  due  they 
would  be  a  beneficent  influence,  with  a  special  protective 
eye  to  that  village  of  fishers.  The  catch  should  increase, 
the  markets  widen,  and  peace  should  hem  in  the  roads 
through  which  the  villagers  travelled. 

"  But  each  morning  we  must  have  an  offering  of  fresh- 
caught  fish,"  White-Man's-Trouble  proclaimed,  "together 
with  the  wood  necessary  for  their  cooking.  ( 0  Carter,  I  no 
fit  for  gather  cook-wood  when  I  ju-ju  man,"  he  explained 
to  his  companion.) 

The  scheme  took ;  there  was  no  doubt  about  that.  Never 
were  villagers  so  pleased  at  securing  the  supernatural  pro- 
tection, which  all  Africans  desire,  at  so  meagre  a  cost. 
Men,  women  and  children,  they  got  up  from  the  dust,  and 
they  slobbered  over  the  Krooboy's  toes,  and  over  the  re- 
mains of  Carter's  canvas  shoes,  and  to  show  their  willing- 
ness, the  men  went  down  to  the  marigold-smelling  river 
then  and  there  to  procure  the  wherewithal  to  make  their 
initial  offering. 

White-Man's-Trouble  scratched  himself  thoughtfully 
and  looked  over  those  that  were  left.  "  0  Carter,"  he 
said,  "  I  no  fit  for  cook  dem  food  when  I  ju-ju  man.  We 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  225 

take  with  us  two-three,  all-e-same  slaves,  to  be  house-boy 
an'  do  dem  wqrk." 

"  No/'  said  Carter  shortly,  "  we  shall  do  nothing  of  the 
kind." 

The  Krooboy  stared.    "Why  you  no  fit?" 

"I  know  what  you're  after,  and  I've  got  my  reasons, 
though  you  wouldn't  appreciate  them.  However,  I  sup- 
pose I  must  invent  something  that  will  appeal  to  you.  If 
dem  bushmen  lib  for  house  with  us  they  soon  see  we  no 
real  ju-ju  men,  an'  they  tell  their  friends.  Then  their 
friends  come  up  some  dark  night  and  chop  us.  Savvy?" 

"0  Carter,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble,  "you  plenty- 
great  man ! " 

Now  there  are  two  ways  of  working  a  mine.  One  is  to 
sell  it  to  a  limited  company  which  in  return  for  certain 
concessions  kindly  puts  up  the  necessary  capital  for  de- 
velopment ;  the  other  way  is  to  find  the  capital  out  of  one's 
own  private  resources,  and  annex  all  the  resultant  profits. 

But  Carter  had  a  poor  opinion  of  the  size  of  his  own 
share  if  the  first  of  these  methods  were  carried  out.  To 
begin  with,  he  knew  nothing  of  company  promoting.  He 
would  have  to  employ  an  expert,  who  would  want  the  lion's 
share  of  the  plunder;  and  indeed  he  quite  realized  that  a 
tin  mine  up  an  unknown  river  in  the  territory  of  no  man's 
land  would  take  a  powerful  lot  of  selling  even  to  that 
gullible  body  of  mining-share  purchasers  of  the  British 
public.  The  more  he  thought  over  the  limited  company 
idea,  the  less  chance  of  profits  did  he  see  in  it  for  him- 
self. And  he  wanted  those  profits  badly.  He  had  not 
risked  life  and  health  to  study  African  scenery  and  cus- 
toms. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  was  at  the  moment  absolutely 
penniless.  If  he  did  discover  a  waterway  down  to  the 
coast — or  rather  when  he  had  discovered  that  waterway, 


226  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

for  he  was  fully  determined  to  do  it — how  much  forwarder 
would  he  be?  What  steamer  could  he  charter?  None. 
By  no  means  could  he  get  one  without  giving  up  a  large 
slice  of  his  precious  mine  to  the  man  who  ran  the  risk. 
He  did  not  blame  them.  He  put  himself  in  the  traders' 
places.  If  he  were  running  a  down-river  factory,  and  had 
a  launch,  and  some  tattered  red-headed  fellow  came  down 
out  of  the  back  of  beyond  with  a  wild  tale  about  a  tin 
mine,  and  asked  for  the  loan  of  the  launch,  and  promised 
to  pay  when  a  cargo  was  brought  down,  and  sent  to  a 
smelter  in  England  and  realized  upon,  what  would  he 
say  to  such  a  preposterous  offer  ?  Why,  he  would  laugh  at 
it.  The  proposition  was  not  one  that  any  business  man 
would  entertain. 

No,  he  must  get  some  capital,  and  buy  that  launch. 
And  then  came  the  question  of  where  was  the  capital  to 
come  from. 

His  father  ?  Well,  he  was  engaged  to  Laura,  and  he  did 
not  feel  like  going  near  his  father. 

Slade? — Smith?     Neither  of  them  had  a  penny. 

O'Neill  and  Craven?  That  meant  Kate.  He  started 
as  if  he  had  been  stung  at  the  idea  of  going  to  Kate  and 
asking  her  for  money.  Kate  was  successful,  and  she  could 
loan  it  easily.  Granted,  and  if  she  had  been  successful 
so  would  he  be,  and  without  her  help.  He  shook  an  angry 
fist  at  Africa.  "  Curse  you,  if  you've  given  her  a  fortune 
you've  got  to  give  me  one  too,  or  I'll  take  it  in  spite  of 
you!" 

He  had  a  touch  of  fever  that  night,  and  White-Man's- 
Trouble  plied  him  with  decoctions  of  herbs  of  such  appall- 
ing nastiness  that  (in  his  own  phrase)  he  decided  to  get 
well  quickly,  merely  to  avoid  the  drugs.  But  it  was  a  fancy 
built  of  that  fever  which  put  him  on  the  path  of  success. 

He  imagined  that  the  shades  of  the  old  Portuguese,  who 


KATE   MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER  227 

had  built  the  strong  stone  house  in  those  far-off  days,  came 
in  that  night  to  visit  him.  They  were  miners,  too,  or  metal 
workers,  he  could  not  make  out  which,  and  they  strutted 
about  in  long  patched  cotton  stockings  which  reached  to 
mid-thigh,  and  a  combination  garment  of  thick  cloth  that 
covered  all  the  rest  of  them.  Even  in  that  stifling  room, 
and  in  that  baking  climate,  they  wore  metal  helmets  and 
metal  body  armor,  and  Carter  wondered  how  they  could  go 
abroad  into  the  sunshine  and  not  be  cooked  alive  in  their 
shells. 

But  he  did  not  content  himself  for  long  with  this  idle 
observation.  There  was  a  method  even  in  his  fevered 
dreaming.  He  put  the  question:  Did  they  get  their  stuff 
down  to  the  Coast  on  the  heads  of  carriers?  The  ghosts 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  such  a  thing.  "  Why  should  we  go 
against  our  nature  ?  We  Portuguese — in  the  days  when  we 
lived,  who  speak  to  you  now — we  were  seamen  and  river- 
men  always.  So  we  built  great  flat  boats  and  swam  our 
goods  down  the  rivers." 

"  Christopher ! "  said  the  Englishman,  "  there's  just  the 
tip  I've  been  waiting  for.  A  sort  of  raft.  By  Gee !  I'm 
going  to  shake  hands  with  you  for  bringing  the  news." 

But  in  that  hospitable  attempt  he  was  stopped  by  the 
burly  White-Man's-Trouble,  who  sat  on  his  chest,  till  he 
promised  to  lie  still  again. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

THE  KING'S  BOUNTY 

A  FUETHER  brilliant  idea  came  to  Carter  next  morning 
that  after  all  he  and  White-Man's-Trouble  had  been  rais- 
ing difficulties  about  the  river's  navigation  that  were  quite 
•unnecessary.  There  was  a  village  of  natives  close  at  their 
door  who  were  river-farers.  What  was  more  likely  than 
that  there  were  many  men  there  who  could  pilot  a  canoe 
through  a  chain  of  creeks  till  at  last  they  heard  the  great 
Atlantic  surf  roaring  on  a  river  bar  ? 

White-Man's-Trouble  shook  his  head  when  he  heard  the 
suggestion.  "  Dem  bushmen  savvy  nothing,"  said  he  con- 
temptuously. 

Upon  experiment  it  proved  that  he  was  right.  The  vil- 
lagers had  acquired  the  habit  of  fishing  on  the  reaches 
which  ran  two  miles  up  stream  and  two  miles  down;  they 
had  adopted  the  customs  of  their  forefathers;  no  one  of 
them  had  ever  paddled  beyond  these  limits.  They  were 
an  incurious  people. 

Their  canoes  were  small,  and  narrow,  and  unwieldy. 
They  were  dug  out  from  cotton-wood  trees  with  fire,  and 
dubbed  into  vague  shape  with  native  adzes,  and  through 
sheer  idleness  and  incapacity  the  builders  had  rarely  se- 
lected straight  timber.  Even  expert  polers  and  paddlers 
could  not  propel  those  miserable  craft  in  a  straight  course. 
One  thing  only  were  these  fishers  good  at,  and  that  was 
baling.  But  in  this  they  had  abundant  practice,  for  all 
the  canoes  were  sun-cracked,  and  leaked  like  baskets. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  229 

"  I  wish,"  said  Carter,  "  for  a  great  raft  that  will  carry 
twelve  tons  of  the  shiny  stones  which  fall  from  the  moun- 
tain." 

They  did  not  know  what  a  raft  was,  neither  did  they 
appreciate  the  size  of  a  ton,  but  Carter  demonstrated  to 
them,  and  White-Man's-Trouble  kept  them  from  forget- 
ting. The  Krooboy  had  found  a  chiquot,  and,  from  hav- 
ing felt  chiquots  across  all  parts  of  his  own  person  many 
a  time,  was  well  qualified  to  wield  such  a  baton  of  au- 
thority. Carter  picked  out  suitable  cotton  woods,  and  the 
Krooboy  apportioned  out  the  cutters,  and  stayed  beside 
them  till  their  work  was  done. 

They  handspiked  the  logs  down  to  the  water,  again 
having  to  be  instructed  in  this  most  elementary  piece  of 
mechanics,  laid  cross-pieces  at  right  angles,  and  lashed  all 
tightly  together  with  lianes.  Then  when  they  had  built 
up  the  interstices  between  the  logs  with  large  pieces  of  tin- 
stone, they  carried  down  the  smaller  ore  in  baskets  till  the 
logs  were  sunk  to  three-quarters  draught. 

Next  they  built  a  house  on  the  raft  and  covered  it  with 
thatch,  and  in  part  of  the  house  they  piled  a  great  store 
of  dried  fish  as  provision  for  the  voyage.  And  all  the 
while  the  ju-ju  organ  behind  them  boomed  out  at  intervals 
its  dismal  boo-paa-bumm,  bumm-paa-boo. 

Now  although  Carter  had  been  a  trader  long  enough  to 
get  very  African  notions  of  the  negro  and  his  ways,  still 
he  had  an  Englishman's  natural  bias  against  forced  labor. 
White-Man's-Trouble,  who  did  not  see  the  desirability  of 
working  if  others  would  do  it  for  him,  openly  suggested 
pressing  what  hands  were  required  for  navigation.  But 
Carter  said  no.  He  had  no  money  to  pay  them  with  on 
arrival,  and  the  lower  castes  of  Africans  do  not  understand 
the  delights  of  having  outstanding  accounts  with  the  white 
man  for  labor  performed.  The  Krooboy  and  he  must 


230  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

struggle  down  the  creeks  and  find  the  channel  themselves. 

White-Man's-Trouble  sniffed  and  scratched  himself,  and 
said  they  would  see.  And  presently  when  the  time  came 
for  departure  the  usual  African  surprise  descended  upon 
them  surely  enough.  Seven  naked  savages  from  the  fishers' 
village  squatted  on  the  raft  and  refused  to  budge.  Their 
arguments  were  simple.  Carter  was  a  great  ju-ju  man. 
They  knew  he  was  great,  because  since  he  came  the  boo- 
baos-bumni  noises  had  been  incessant.  Moreover,  these  were 
beneficent  noises,  since  whilst  they  filled  the  air  no  one 
had  died  in  the  village  from  leopard,  crocodile,  or  alien 
spear.  They  therefore  adopted  him  as  their  master. 

"  Oh,  but  look  here,"  said  Carter,  "  I  can't  do  this.  It 
means  I  should  be  a  slave-holder,  neither  more  nor  less. 
Besides,  with  you  seven  great  lumps  sitting  there,  the  raft's 
awash.  If  I  take  you  I  shall  have  to  jettison  some  of  my 
tin-stone." 

But  they  had  no  further  arguments.  They  sat  placid. 
They  had  lived  in  cousinship  with  fear  all  their  squalid 
lives,  and  here  at  last  had  arrived  the  strong  man  who 
could  certainly  protect  them  if  he  would.  And  they  in- 
tended he  should. 

Carter  thought  for  a  minute,  and  then,  "  I  won't  have 
it,"  said  he.  "  Trouble,  drive  them  ashore." 

White-Man's-Trouble  spoke,*  and  nothing  happened.  He 
laced  into  their  bare  backs  with  his  chiquot,  but  still  they 
did  not  budge.  One  of  them,  who  seemed  to  be  spokes- 
man, merely  talked  to  him  quietly. 

The  Krooboy  explained.  "Dem  bushmen  very  unedu- 
cate.  Dey  say  if  you  no  take  'em  dey  lib  for  die.  Dem 
big  black  fellow  there  wid  one  ear,  he  say  if  you  no  take 
him,  he  walk  into  dem  ribber  an'  be  crocodile  chop." 

"They'll  do  it,  too,  confound  them,"  Carter  assured 
himself  vexedly. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  231 

And  so  it  came  to  pass,  as  he  could  not  very  well  con- 
demn the  enterprising  seven  to  death — for  that  is  what 
leaving  them  amounted  to — he  was  forced  to  take  them 
with  him,  and  very  idle,  inefficient  boatmen  they  proved. 
They  knew  nothing  of  the  river,  once  the  two  miles  of 
their  fishing  had  been  passed;  they  had  no  idea  of  the 
obvious  set  of  currents,  no  eyes  for  the  plainest  shoal.  If 
they  were  left  to  themselves  for  a  dozen  minutes  they 
would  run  the  raft  into  the  bush,  and  as  likely  as  not  get 
on  board  a  cargo  of  red  ants  that  seemed  to  have  white- 
hot  teeth  when  they  started  to  bite.  They  gorged  upon 
the  scanty  store  of  dried  fish  if  they  were  not  watched, 
and  never  caught  more  unless  they  were  incessantly  goaded. 
When  the  reeking  yellow  river  was  more  than  usually  full 
of  crocodiles  they  would  dangle  their  legs  over  the  side; 
and  when  the  raft  was  drifting  past  a  village  which  was 
most  probably  hostile,  they  would  break  into  song.  They 
always  felt  that  the  great  white  ju-ju  man,  under  whose 
protection  they  had  elected  to  place  themselves,  was  com- 
petent to  shelter  them  if  he  so  desired.  And  if  he  willed 
otherwise,  and  they  died,  well,  that  did  not  greatly  concern 
them.  They  were  very  exasperating  animals,  and  Carter 
about  three  times  a  day  much  wished  that  the  handling 
of  them  could  be  transferred  to  some  of  those  kind-hearted 
people  at  home  who  always  insist  that  the  negro  of  the 
West  Africa  hinterland  is  a  man  and  a  brother. 

They  had  a  small  dugout  canoe  in  tow,  and  greatly  they 
needed  it.  After  twice  running  the  big  raft  down  streams 
that  ended  in  impassable  morass,  and  having  tediously  to 
tow  and  punt  her  back  against  the  current,  they  always 
hereafter  sent  the  lighter  craft  ahead  on  voyages  of  dis- 
covery. Or  to  be  more  accurate,  Carter  had  to  go  in  her 
with  one  of  the  fishers  as  assistant.  The  excellent  White- 
Man's-Trouble  had  limits  to  his  intelligence,  and  there 


232  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

was  no  driving  into  him  that  water  which  would  carry  a 
canoe  that  drew  three  inches  of  water  was  too  shallow  for 
a  heavy  raft  that  drew  three  feet. 

The  Winchester  rifle  and  the  remains  of  the  Gladstone 
bag  seemed  the  only  two  things  that  linked  them  now  with 
civilization.  They  lived  in  the  African  manner  upon 
African  food;  the  intricate  branching  of  the  creeks  was 
charted  in  matchet-scratches  upon  the  smoothed  surface  of 
a  log  of  wood ;  even  English  speech  was  discarded  in  favor 
of  the  native  tongue. 

Carter  had  shaved  till  the  steamy  atmosphere  of  the 
bush  had  turned  his  razors  into  mere  sticks  of  rust;  and 
•with  the  growth  of  his  red  stubble  of  beard,  all  respect  for 
his  outward  man  had  vanished.  He  caught  sight  of  him- 
self one  evening  in  a  pool  of  black  water.  "  Well,"  he 
commented,  "  I  always  thought  that  Swizzle-Stick  Smith 
was  a  filthy  old  ruffian,  but  at  his  worst  he  looks  a  prince 
to  me  now.  That  I  suppose  is  where  gray  has  the  pull 
over  ginger." 

But  it  was  the  rescue  of  the  King  of  Okky  which  really 
gave  the  turn  to  the  whole  of  Carter's  fortune.  They  had 
got  the  raft  into  a  regular  cul-de-sac  of  reeds  and  water- 
lilies,  and  she  lay  there  stuck  on  a  shoal  in  the  face  of  a 
falling  river.  Creeks  radiated  all  around  them  like  the 
spokes  of  some  gigantic  wheel.  The  place  was  alive  with 
crocodiles  and  flies.  Not  very  far  away  an  intertribal  bat- 
tle advertised  itself  by  an  ugly  mutter  of  firing. 

"An'  chop  no  lib,"  said  White-Man's-Trouble,  by  way 
of  winding  up  the  sum  of  their  difficulties. 

"  Well,  find  some,"  Carter  snapped.  "  Make  spears,  and 
stab  the  fish  up  out  of  the  mud  if  you  can't  catch  them 
with  nets  or  hooks.  Only  see  that  there's  a  meal  ready 
for  me  when  I  get  back,  or  I'll  lam  into  you  with  that 
chiquot  you're  so  fond  of  using." 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEE  233 

He  went  off  then  in  the  warped  dugout,  with  the  one- 
eared  man  as  bow  pole,  laboriously  hunting  for  a  passage 
into  some  main  stream.  The  river  beneath  them  gave  up 
fat  bubbles  of  evil  odors ;  the  banks  of  slime  on  either  side 
reeked  under  the  sun  blaze.  A  dozen  times  Carter  thought 
he  saw  open  water  ahead,  and  pushed  on,  and  a  dozen  times 
found  himself  embayed.  And  always  he  had  to  jot  down 
compass  notes  with  a  nail  on  the  well-scored  gunwale  of 
the  canoe,  so  as  to  keep  in  touch  with  the  raft,  and  be  ready 
against  that  forthcoming  time  when  he  would  have  to  pilot 
a  steam  launch  up  to  Tin  Hill.  For  though  he  barely  ex- 
pected to  escape  with  life  out  of  this  horrible  labyrinth  of 
creeks  and  waterways,  be  it  always  understood  he  intended 
to  return  and  demand  from  the  country  a  fortune,  if  so 
be  he  ever  got  down  again  to  the  seaboard. 

At  last,  however,  he  swung  out  into  what  was  obviously 
a  main  channel,  and  was  on  the  point  of  turning  back  to 
fetch  the  raft,  when  his  eye  was  held  by  something  that 
moved  sluggishly  in  mid-stream. 

It  lay  up  towards  the  sun,  and  was  hard  to  make  out 
because  of  the  dazzle  of  radiance. 

"  Can  you  see  what  that  is  ? "  he  asked  his  bow  man 
in  the  native. 

"It  is  just  a  man  on  a  branch,"  said  that  savage,  with 
cheerful  indifference.  "  Presently  the  crocodiles  will  chop 
him.  Shall  we  go  back  now,  Effendi,  to  the  raft  ?  " 

"No,  my  callous  friend.  We'll  investigate  the  person 
in  the  tree  first.  Full  speed  ahead !  " 

The  clumsy  dugout  lurched  and  twisted  down  the  broad 
marigold-smelling  river,  and  as  there  was  a  strong  current 
under  her,  she  soon  drew  the  obstruction  into  clearer  view. 

It  wae  a  tree  clearly  enough,  swept  down  by  some  flood 
and  stranded  here  in  mid-channel  to  form  one  of  the 
myriad  snags  with  which  West  African  rivers  abound.  In 


234 

it  was  a  black  man  who  hung  by  his  hands  from  the  upper 
branches,  and  was  perpetually  pulling  up  his  toes  like  some 
ridiculous  jumping-jack.  He  was  a  very  fat  man,  and  his 
movements  were  getting  more  feeble  even  as  they  watched 
him.  But  it  was  not  till  they  got  close  alongside  that  they 
saw  the  impelling  motive  of  these  gymnastics. 

A  twelve-foot  crocodile  was  in  attendance  beneath  the 
tree,  and  every  now  and  again  it  swam  up  with  a  great 
swirl  and  shot  its  grisly  jaws  out  of  the  water,  and  snapped 
noisily  at  the  fat  man's  toes. 

Carter  lifted  his  Winchester  and  waited  for  a  chance, 
but  of  a  sudden  his  bow  man  turned  to  him  with  a  face 
that  was  gray  with  fear.  "  That  man,"  he  said,  "  is  the 
King  of  Okky,  and  if  you  save  him,  presently  we  shall 
both  die/' 

"  I  had  already  recognized  the  gentleman,  and  I  fancy 
he's  far  more  my  enemy  than  yours,  but  I'm  going  to  pull 
him  out  of  this  mess  for  all  that,  and  give  him  a  good  level 
start  again  on  dry  land." 

Then  as  the  crocodile  jumped  once  more,  he  threw  up 
his  rifle  and  shot  it  under  the  left  foreleg,  where  the  pro- 
tective plates  are  absent. 

The  brute  jumped,  and  writhed,  and  swam  away  amid 
cascades  of  golden  spray,  and  as  the  bullet  was  soft-nosed 
and  expanding  there  would  probably  be,  before  many  more 
hours  were  over,  one  less  pest  in  Africa.  But  Carter  did 
not  worry  his  head  about  that.  He  paddled  the  dugout 
to  the  tree  and  called  to  the  King. 

His  Majesty  of  Okky  was  fat,  and  though  once  he  had 
been  a  giant  in  strength,  in  these  latter  jears  of  kingship 
he  had  grown  soft  and  flabby.  He  did  all  his  journeyings 
in  hammock  and  canoe,  and  had  slaves  who  saved  him  the 
smallest  scrap  of  exercise ;  and,  moreover,  he  ate  and  drank 
to  vast  excess.  So  that  when  the  immediate  strain  was 


Then,  as  the  crocodile  jumped  once  more,  he  threw  up  his 
rifle  and  shot  it  under  the  left  foreleg,  where  the  protective 
plates  are  absent.  Page  234. 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER  235 

over  it  can  be  understood  how  he  hung  in  the  upper 
branches  of  that  tree  too  limp  and  exhausted  even  to  lower 
himself  into  the  canoe.  Carter  had  to  climb  onto  the 
branch,  and  bear  a  hand  before  he  could  get  down. 

The  dugout  sank  perilously  beneath  his  weight,  but  the 
King  was  no  amateur,  and  balanced  cannily.  Moreover, 
presently  he  panted  himself  into  articulate  speech.  "  I  fit 
for  gin,"  said  the  King  of  Okky. 

"  I  bet  you  are,"  Carter  agreed.  "  But  unfortunately 
the  bar  on  this  packet's  closed  for  want  of  supplies  just 
at  the  moment.  Try  a  sup  of  the  local  ditch-water  out 
of  the  baler." 

The  King  did  so,  and  made  a  face.  "  I  have  not  drunk 
water  since  I  became  a  King,"  said  he.  "  0  Carter,  do  not 
turn  up  stream.  I  have  men  at  a  village  down  yonder." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it.  But  having  saved  your  skin,  King, 
I've  my  own  to  think  of  now." 

The  King's  great  body  began  to  shake  with  laughter. 

"  Stop  that,"  said  Carter  sharply,  "  or  you'll  burst  the 
gunwales  out." 

"  0  Carter,"  said  Kallee,  speaking  in  Okky,  "  listen.  It 
is  only  by  my  favor  that  you  have  lived  so  long.  We  are 
both  ju-ju  men,  and  between  such  it  is  useless  to  make 
pretence.  But  I  can  tell  you  all  you  did  since  you  left 
Mokki,  and  met  Smith,  and  went  to  the  cliff  whereof  ben 
Hossein  told  you,  and  saw  the  stones  which  carry  the 
brown  glass  which  you  covet  so  much.  I  can  tell  you  of 
your  machine  which  says  boo-paa-bumm,  and  of  the  way 
you  came  down  these  creeks  on  a  raft,  and  how  you  labored 
prodigiously  in  the  blind  channels.  I  had  arranged  to  let 
you  get  so  far.  To-morrow,  when  you  came  abreast  of  my 
villages,  canoes  would  have  come  out — "  Here  the  King 
screwed  round  his  fat  neck  and  eyed  Carter  over  his  shoul- 
der— "  0  Carter,  do  you  think  it  strange  that  I  should  have 
wanted  a  head  such  as  yours  ?  " 


236  KATE    MEBEDITH,    FINANCIER 

"You  would  not  tell  me  this  now  if  you  still  wanted 
that  head." 

One  could  not  deny  that  somehow  the  man  had  a  certain 
regal  dignity  about  him.  "  0  Carter/'  he  said,  "  if  T  have 
a  King's  lusts,  I  have  all  of  a  King's  gratitude.  I  was 
travelling  down  this  river.  My  canoe  was  overturned  by 
a  snag,  and  it  and  the  paddlers  were  swept  away  down 
stream,  and  if  the  crocodiles  have  not  dealt  with  the  men 
I  will  give  them  their  due  presently.  For  myself,  I  climbed 
into  that  tree  as  you  saw,  and  could  not  have  endured 
longer.  What  account  was  open  between  us  we  will  wipe 
from  the  tally.  I  owe  you  for  my  life  now,  and  I  will 
repay." 

"  Are  my  Krooboy  and  the  fishers  included  in  the 
treaty  ? " 

The  King  shrugged  his  great  shoulders.  "  I  could  give 
you  a  better  servant  than  White-Man's-Trouble,  and  better 
paddlers  than  those  fishermen.  But  if  they  please  you, 
they  shall  remain  alive  and  well  treated.  Paddle  now 
quickly  down  stream  to  the  village,  0  Carter,  and  we  will 
drink  Krug  champagne  till  a  goat  is  slain  and  chop  pre- 
pared." 

The  Tillage,  when  they  came  to  it,  was  not  a  pleasant 
sight.  It  had  been  rebellious,  and  the  King  of  Okky  had 
been  instilling  discipline  with  a  strong  hand.  Further- 
more, two  of  his  canoemen  had  escaped  from  the  river  and 
reported  that  the  King  was  drowned.  They  were  also 
attended  to  in  a  way  that  prevented  their  ever  erring  again 
in  this  world.  The  King  dispensed  champagne,  and  ar- 
ranged great  matters  of  life  and  death  with  a  massive 
impartiality.  And  between  whiles  he  found  abundant 
time  to  talk  with  his  guest,  now  using  Coast  English  for 
the  sake  of  greater  privacy.  His  knowledge  of  what  had 
been  going  on  was  at  times  almost  uncanny. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  237 

"  0  Carter/'  he  said,  "  dem  Laura,  she  lib  for  Teach- 
v,palaver  house  in  Las  Palmas." 

"  She  left  for  Las  Palmas  in  the  Frau  Pobst  certainly. 
But  I  don't  know  where  she  is  staying." 

"  Teach-palaver  house,"  said  the  King  placidly,  "  by 
Telde." 

"  She  was  at  school  once  at  a  convent  on  the  Telde  road." 

"  She  lib  for  there  now." 

"  I  say,  King,  how  the  deuce  do  you  know  that  ?  " 

"  Savvy  plenty  funny  things,"  said  the  King,  and  turned 
to  do  justice  on  another  culprit  who  was  brought  before 
him  for  trial. 

The  royal  menage  was  simple.  They  dined  off  a  cous- 
cousoo  and  a  bowl  of  stewed  goat,  such  as  any  well-to-do 
native  farmer  might  have  set  on  the  floor  before  him  for 
his  meal,  and  thereafter  they  sat  on  mats  of  elaborate  straw- 
work  upon  the  hard  earthj  and  the  King  consumed  at  a 
moderate  computation  one  ounce  of  snuff  before  he  was 
inclined  for  further  talk. 

Then,  "  0  Carter,"  said  he,  "  what  for  dis  stone  pa- 
laver?" 

"  When  that  stone  is  taken  to  my  country  they  heat  it  in 
a  furnace  with  other  things,  and  a  white  metal  runs  out." 
x  "  Okky-man  no  fit  for  make  him  ?  " 

"  No,  the  job's  too  complicated." 

"  Dem  stone  worth  lot  o'  money,  or  you  no  fit  for  carry 
small-small  load  all  dem  way  to  coast.  And  a  whole  hill 
of  dem  stone  lib  far  up  ribber.  So  dem  hill  worth  plenty- 
much  lot  o'  money." 

"There  goes  my  pile,"  thought  Carter  bitterly.  "The 
greedy  old  ruffian's  going  to  hook  it  for  himself." 

The  King  went  on.  "  Dem  Kate,  she  fit  for  be  O'Neill 
and  Craven  now?" 

"  I  suppose  you  may  say  she  is." 


238  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  Smith  an'  Slade  all-e-same  work-boy  for  O'Neill  and 
Craven?" 

"  If  you  like  to  put  it  that  way." 

"  Good.  And  you,"  went  on  this  well-informed  mon- 
arch, wagging  a  fat  forefinger,  "you  want  marry  Kate, 
same's  I  wanted  to  marry  Laura,  an'  she  no  fit  for  have 
you,  same's  Laura  no  fit  for  have  me  dem  time?" 

Carter  dropped  his  chin  onto  his  knees  and  said  noth- 
ing. The  King  went  on,  "  0  Carter,  you  fit  for  save  my 
life  dis  day.  If  you  no  come  wid  dem  canoe,  I  lib  for  be 
crocodile  chop  this  minute.  So  I  do  not  take  your  red — 
I  do  not  make  you  lib  for  die  as  I  say  dis  morning,  but  I 
fit  for  make  you  glad.  Dem  Dutchmen  hold  dem  factory 
now  at  Mokki  ?  " 

"They  do." 

"  Then  I  send  my  war-boys  in  at  back  an'  stop  roads. 
But  I  take  ju-ju  off  roads  to  dem  O'Neill  and  Craven  fac- 
tories at  Smooth,  an'  Monk,  and  Malla-Nulla." 

"  That's  very  good  of  you,  I'm  sure." 

"  Then  dem  Kate  she  love  you  much  when  she  find  dem 
factory  once  more  do  trade." 

"  I'm  afraid,  King,  it  would  take  a  lot  more  than  that 
to  make  Kate  feel  attached  to  me.  You  see,  I'm  no  longer 
in  O'Neill  and  Craven's  service.  I  chucked  it  when  she 
sold  Mokki,  and  I've  been  on  my  own  ever  since." 

The  King's  eyes  gave  the  ghost  of  a  twinkle.  "  Den  I 
no  fit  for  open  dem  roads.  So  I  make  you  dash  another 
way.  I  send  you  for  Coast  in  big  canoe  of  sixty  paddles." 

"  With  White-Man's-Trouble  ?  " 

"Wid  your  boy,  an'  your  cargo.  I  send  you  in  three 
days'  time  six  more  canoes  of  sixty  paddles,  full  of  dem 
stone  you  wish.  I  dash  you  dem  hill  of  stone  where  you 
set  up  dem  dam  ju-ju  boo-paa-bumm.  I  tell  dem  men  who 
lib  for  ribber  banks  that  you  be  free  for  come  an'  go  on  all 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK  239 

my  country  while  I  lib  for  King;  an'  if  any  man  he  hurt 
you,  I  take  dem  man  an'  I  nail  him  by  hands  an'  feet  to  a 
tree!" 

Carter  looked  up.     "  Do  you  mean  that  ?  " 

The  King  took  snuff.  "  When  I  say  to  a  man  you  lib 
for  die,  he  die.  When  I  say  'I  let  you  lib/  then  he  lib. 
When  I  say  to  a  man,  '  I  make  you  dash/  he  get  dem  dash, 
even  though  I  have  to  send  my  war-boys  to  take  it  from 
somebody  other  to  give  it  him.  0  Carter,  I  lib  for  be  real 
King." 

"  You  mean  you've  given  me  a  fortune  in  return  for  the 
small  thing  I  did  for  you  ?  " 

"My  life,"  said  the  King  dryly,  "he  seem  small  thing 
to  you.  But  to  me" — he  patted  his  rotundity — "to  me 
dem  life  be  plenty  big." 

Three  days  Carter  abode  in  the  village,  and  kept  to  the 
inside  of  his  hut  to  avoid  the  sights  of  the  place,  which 
to  a  European  eye  are  unpleasant  when  an  African  King 
is  visiting  his  displeasure  upon  unruly  subjects.  He  was 
ministered  unto  by  White-Man's-Trouble,  who  paid  him 
much  unaccustomed  deference,  and  forebore  to  steal  the 
smallest  thing.  And  at  nights  he  sat  with  the  King,  who 
had  an  educated  palate  in  champagne,  and  drank  vintage 
wine  at  the  rate  of  one  case  in  four  days. 

"  When  I  lib  back  for  Okky  City,"  the  King  said  once, 
"  you  fit  for  come  and  see  me  there  now  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  King,  if  you'll  name  a  date  when  you  haven't 
got  a  custom  on." 

King  Kallee  looked  thoughtfully  at  his  guest.  "Dem 
English  no  fit  for  like  dem  custom-palaver  ?  " 

"  They  don't,  one  little  bit." 

"For  why?" 

"  Gets  on  their  nerves." 

"Dem  English  King,  he  send  his  war-boys  if  I  make 
dem  custom-palaver  more  ?  " 


240  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  It's  the  common  topic  of  conversation  down  the  Coast 
as  to  when  England  will  send  an  expedition  to  cut  you  up." 

"  Because  I  stop  dem  roads  an'  spoil  trade  to  factories  ?  " 

"  Pooh,  King !  You  know  precious  little  about  the  Brit- 
ish Government.  You  may  spoil  all  the  trade  in  Africa  if 
you  like,  you  may  even  cut  up  half  a  dozen  factory  agents 
or  so,  and  the  British  Government  won't  care  a  little  hang. 
But  if  you  will  go  on  in  your  simple  way  crucifying  slaves, 
and  carving  up  your  own  subjects,  why,  then,  it's  only  a 
question  of  time  before  they'll  pull  you  off  your  perch  and 
send  you  into  an  inexpensive  exile  in  St.  Helena." 

"  Dem  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  he  say  same  thing." 

"  It's  so  obvious." 

"But  he  want  me  to  let  him  hand  dem  Okky  country 
over  to  England,  so  I  say  I  pull  his  skin  off  if  I  catch 
him  again.  What  you  want  for  yo'self  ?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  what  do  I  stand  to  make  out  of  the  deal  ? 
Well,  not  much  beyond  the  satisfaction  of  keeping  your 
crucifixion  tree  in  a  more  sanitary  state.  With  the  mining 
right  you  have  given  me,  I  shall  be  a  rich  man." 

"But  if  dem  English  took  Okky  country?" 

"Why,  they'd  tax  the  mine,  and  they'd  clap  on  regu- 
lations, till  they  made  a  very  fine  hole  in  the  profits." 

"  Say  dem  again." 

Carter  explained  more  fully,  and  then  for  awhile  the 
King  of  Okky  sat  and  stook  snuff  in  silence. 

Then,  "0  Carter,"  he  asked,  "dem  King  of  England 
he  got  so  many  war-boys  as  me  ?  " 

Carter  nodded. 

"  And  dey  no  have  trade  guns  ?     All  Winchesters  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  what  the  present  regulation  pump-gun 
is  called,  but  we'll  say  it's  like  the  Winchester,  only  plenty- 
too-much  better." 

Again  the  King  thought  in  silence,  and  the  hot  night 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIEE  241 

rustled  and  sighed  around  them.  The  moonlight  was 
strong  enough  to  show  even  the  fibre  of  the  fine  state 
mats  on  which  they  sat.  But  at  last  he  motioned  away 
the  slave  who  carried  his  snuff-mull,  and  touched  Carter's 
knee  with  an  emphatic  finger. 

"  I  believe  you  speak  for  true  about  dem  custom.  Three 
days  ago  you  no  care  if  I  lib  or  die  ?  " 

"  I  may  as  well  be  frank,  and  say  I  should  have  pre- 
ferred you  dead." 

The  King  gave  the  ghost  of  a  grin.  "  There  are  many 
like  that.  But  now  ?  " 

"  Now  I  prefer  you  alive  and  King  of  Okky." 

"Dat  is  what  I  thought,  an'  so  I  believe  you  say  true 
when  you  tell  me  what  you  say  about  dem  customs.  I  do 
not  see  why  Okky  customs  should  make  dem  English  king 
fit  for  send  his  war-boys.  But  I  no  fit  for  want  'em." 

"  So  you  fit  for  stop  dem  customs  ?  " 

"  I  fit,"  said  the  King,  and  by  that  decision  gave  respite, 
it  has  been  calculated,  to  at  least  eight  thousand  of  his 
subjects  each  year  who  had  gone  the  red  paths  prescribed 
by  ju-ju. 

They  drew  up  a  memorandum  on  the  subject  there  and 
then,  in  the  form  of  a  letter  from  the  King  of  Okky  to 
him  of  Great  Britain.  Carter  suggested  the  British  For- 
eign Secretary,  but  Kallee  would  not  hear  of  it.  He  as  a 
King,  he  said,  was  the  equal  of  any  other  King.  So  on  a 
sheet  of  damp,  mildewed  note-paper  the  message  was  writ- 
ten, and  signed  by  the  King  in  an  Arabic  scrawl. 

And  next  day  it  travelled  down  to  the  Coast  in  state  in- 
side the  battered  remains  of  a  once-yellow  gladstone  bag. 


CHAPTER    XVII 

KATE    SENDS    A    CABLEGRAM 

Now  to  give  Carter  full  due,  his  weaning  of  the  King 
of  Okky  from  the  habit  of  human  sacrifice  had  been 
brought  about  more  by  accident  than  design.  By  a  further 
working  of  the  law  of  chance,  the  circumstance  brought 
him  out  of  modest  obscurity  into  a  very  strong  notoriety 
in  a  little  less  than  six  short  months. 

"A  private  trader,"  so  ran  the  gist  of  the  newspaper 
leaders,  "has  brought  to  pass  a  thing  which  Government 
authorities,  both  civil  and  military,  not  to  mention  mis- 
sionaries and  miscellaneous  philanthropists,  have  been  try- 
ing for  ineffectually  ever  since  the  British  rule  was  set  up 
in  West  Africa.  Throughout  all  our  possessions  on  that 
sickly  Coast  the  natives  have  been  addicted  to  human  sac- 
rifice; and  when  instances  of  this  from  time  to  time  leak 
out,  civilization  is  on  each  occasion  chilled  with  a  fresh 
douche  of  horror.  The  West  African  Kingdom  of  Okky, 
though  little  known  for  other  qualities,  has  acquired  a  cer- 
tain detestable  celebrity  for  these  red  orgies.  .  .  .  Mr. 
Carter,  though  he  was  brought  up  in  his  father's  vicarage 
in  Wharfedale,  has  not  been  noted  heretofore  for  any  spe- 
cial benevolence  in  dealing  with  native  questions.  Those 
who  know  him  describe  him  as  essentially  a  strong  man. 
.  .  .  In  fact,  Mr.  Carter,  in  his  modesty,  most  em- 
phatically disclaims  any  such  high  motives,  and  avers  that 
he  took  his  now  celebrated  journey  into  the  bush  merely 
for  his  own  business  purposes,  and  nothing  beyond.  On 


243 

this  subject  we  prefer  to  hold  our  own  opinions.  Explorers 
of  his  rare  type — the  almost  unknown  type  that  does  not 
advertise — carry  with  them  a  modesty  that  delights  in  be- 
littling its  own  triumphs.  But  even  Mr.  Carter's  modesty 
cannot  explain  away  certain  cold  facts.  The  King  of  Okky 
till  recently  had  a  most  black  reputation  for  human  sac- 
rifice. Many  Europeans  have  gone  up  to  his  horrible  city 
to  expostulate.  Some  he  has  sent  back;  some  have  not 
been  heard  of  again  since  they  left  the  Coast,  and  one  can 
only  shudder  and  guess  at  their  fates;  but  none  have  ef- 
fected any  change.  The  '  Customs/  as  these  orgies  of 
slaughter  are  named  locally,  still  endured :  indeed,  evidence 
clearly  showed  that  they  were  increasing  under  the  pres- 
ent reign  of  King  Kallee  both  in  frequency  and  importance. 
Nothing,  it  was  said  by  those  on  the  spot,  but  a  British 
army,  and  a  great  outlay  in  life  and  treasure,  could  bring1 
these  horrors  of  the  hinterland  to  a  close.  Mr.  Carter, 
however,  thought  otherwise.  He  went  up  country  prac- 
tically unattended.  He  bearded  the  king  in  his  own  fetich 
grove,  and  he  achieved  what  experts  called  the  impossible. 
He  has  induced  King  Kallee  to  abandon  human  sacrifice 
now  and  for  always. 

"  As  will  be  seen  by  the  two  interviews  which  appear 
in  our  news  columns,  the  information  on  these  points  did 
not  come  from  Mr.  Carter  himself.  Mr.  Carter  is  that 
man  so  rare  to  find  in  these  pushing  days,  a  man  who  does 
not  care  one  jot  for  anything  the  press  can  do  towards  his. 
own  self-advancement,  a  man,  moreover,  who  does  not  mind 
saying  so  in  strong,  rude  Anglo-Saxon.  But  fortunately 
we  have  another  mine  of  information  more  easily  tapped. 
The  sensational  rise  into  a  new  prosperity  of  the  old  West 
African  firm  of  O'lSTeill  and  Craven  has  been  one  of  the 
features  of  the  year's  finance,  and  it  is  now  an  open  secret 
that  the  sole  partner  and  manager  of  the  ( firm '  is  a 


244  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

young,  attractive,  and  unmarried  lady.  This  Miss  Kate 
O'Neill  has  so  far  evaded  the  interviewer,  but  on  the  Okky 
topic  she  has  volunteered  the  fullest  information.  It  is 
to  her  that  we  are  indebted  for  our  description  of  Mr.  Car- 
ter and  his  great  achievement." 

On  such  lines  ran  the  leaders  in  most  of  the  great  news- 
papers, though,  of  course,  they  varied  in  their  facts  and 
their  point  of  view.  They  all  paid  graceful  compliments 
to  the  pretty  girl  who  had  appeared  of  late  with  such  suc- 
cess in  the  field  of  larger  finance.  One  paper  alone  had 
the  impudence  to  refer  in  cold  print  to  a  matter  that  the 
other  newspaper  men  smiled  over  quietly  in  the  privacy 
of  their  offices. 

"  We  wish,"  wrote  this  sentimental  journalist,  "  that  we 
could  indicate  a  romance  that  would  finish  up  this  episode 
fittingly.  But  truth  compels  us  to  record  that  Miss  O'Neill, 
along  with  the  rest  of  the  biographical  matter  which  she 
so  kindly  supplied,  mentioned  the  detail  of  Mr.  Carter's 
engagement  to  a  Miss  Laura  Slade,  who  at  present  resides 
in  Grand  Canary.  We  understand  that  a  marriage  will 
shortly  take  place." 

As  it  happened,  this  journal  was  the  one  of  Mrs.  Crav- 
en's daily  reading.  She  indicated  the  paragraph  with  a 
prim  forefinger,  and  called  her  niece  to  read  it. 

"Did  you  say  that,  Kate,  or  is  it  one  of  the  fellow's 
impudent  inventions?" 

"  Oh,  I  told  him  that  with  the  rest  just  to — well,  to 
quiet  him.  He  seemed  to  think  I  was  very  interested  in 
Mr.  Carter." 

"  And  I  suppose  suggested  you  were  in  love  with  him  ?  " 

"Well,  he  didn't  put  it  exactly  like  that,"  said  Kate 
thoughtfully.  "He  was  a  very  dashing  young  man,  and 
rather  gave  me  the  idea  that  he  wanted  to  see  if  the  coast 
was  clear  for  himself." 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  245 

"I  see.  And  so  you  told  him  about  the  engagement 
between  Mr.  Carter  and  Laura,  just  to  encourage  him  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so.  He  really  was  very  amusing  and  push- 
ing. He  wanted  me  to  go  out  to  lunch  with  him  there 
and  then." 

"  Kate,  are  you  going  to  let  Mr.  Carter  marry  Laura  ?  " 

"  My  dear  Aunt  Jane,  what  an  extraordinary  question ! 
What  possible  influence  can  I  have  over  either  of  them? 
I  offered  them  both  a  wedding  present,  and  asked  them 
each  what  they  would  like.  Could  I  go  further  than 
that?" 

"  And  each  of  them,"  suggested  the  old  lady,  "  said 
'  there  was  time  enough  for  that,'  or  they'd  '  let  you  know 
when  the  wedding  day  was  fixed,'  or  put  you  off,  somehow, 
like  that." 

"  Look  here,  Aunt,  what  are  you  driving  at  ?  " 

"  I  am  looking." 

"  Well,  speak,  you  irritating  old  person." 

"  My  dear,  I  am  waiting  for  you  to  look  back  at  me. 
You  have  carefully  avoided  meeting  my  eye  ever  since  I 
showed  you  the  paper." 

Kate  looked  up,  and  Mrs.  Craven  read  something  in  the 
girl's  face  that  made  her  sigh.  "  You  will  go  your  own 
way,  I  know,  Kitty  dear.  You  are  very  capable,  and  very 
clever,  and  that  has  naturally  made  you  very  self-reliant. 
You  have  shown  yourself  so  wonderfully  successful  over 
your  business  matters  that  I  shouldn't  dream  of  advising 
you  there.  But  do  you  ever  bring  up  into  mind  that  there 
is  something  more  in  life  than  mere  financial  success  ?  " 

"Of  cour?3  I  do,  Aunt.  But  I  suppose  I  am  different 
from  the  other  girls.  They  look  forward  to  their  domestic 
pleasures.  I  have  made  myself  other  interests." 

The  old  lady  shook  her  head  decisively.  "You  are  not 
at  all  abnormal  in  that  way.  You  are  the  most  entirely 


246  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEE 

human  person  I  ever  saw.  And  to  prove  it,  I'll  just  in- 
stance to  you  the  way  you've  fallen  in  love  with  George 
Carter." 

"  I  refuse  to  admit  it." 
"Even  to  me,  Kitty?" 

"Even  to  myself.  I  like  the  man,  and  there  it  must 
end.  He  is  engaged  elsewhere,  and  if  you  call  me  human, 
you  must  allow  me  pride.  I  run  after  no  man,  nor  do  I 
lure  any  man  away  from  another  girl  who  has  been  my 
friend,  whatever  my  inclinations  may  be.  And  now,  if  you 
please,  we  will  drop  that  subject  and  talk  of  rubber.  Our 
third  company  was  subscribed  once  and  a  half  times  over 
by  lunch  time  to-day,  and  we've  closed  the  lists.  How's 
that  for  a  real  solid  triumph  ?  " 

Mrs.  Craven  lay  back  in  her  chair  and  methodically 
folded  the  paper.  "  Do  the  profits  on  that  bring  up  your 
score  to  the  million  you  arrived  at  ?  " 

"  Oh  no,  no.     But  they  will  help  it  along  very  nicely." 
"  When  you  get  a  million  will  you  stop  ?  " 
"When  I  get  my  million,  which,  mark  you,  Aunt,  is 
more  than  any  girl  of  my  age  has  ever  done,  why,  then, 
I  shall  start  to  make  my  second.     It's  a  most  fascinating 
amusement." 

"  But  it  doesn't  make  you  happy.  You  are  no  better  for 
it.  You  can't  spend  it." 

"  My  dear  Aunt,  where  have  your  eyes  been  ?  Haven't 
you  seen  my  clothes  since  I  came  back  from  the  Coast? 
Why,  I  never  knew  what  it  was  to  dress  before.  I'm  seri- 
ously thinking  I  shall  have  to  start  a  maid  to  look  after 
me." 

"  My  dear,  you've  a  knack  of  carrying  clothes." 
"  That  I  learned  from  you,  you  extremely  smart  person." 
"Well,  you  got  the  knack  somewhere,  and  you  always 
were  nicely  turned  out.     Now  I  know  your  wardrobe  as 


KATE    MEBEDITH,    FINANCIEK  247 

well  as  you  do  yourself,  and,  let  me  see" — Mrs.  Craven 
took  a  pencil  from  her  chatelaine,  and  made  calculations 
on  the  edge  of  a  newspaper — "  Since  you  came  back 
to  England  you've  not  spent,  at  a  liberal  estimate, 
above  two  hundred  and  twenty-seven  pounds  ten  on  your 
own  adornment." 

Kate  laughed.  "  I  give  in  to  you,  Aunt.  I  quite  be- 
lieve you  know  my  wardrobe  better  than  I  do  myself.  Well, 
perhaps  I  shall  buy  pearls,  then.  I  never  had  one,  but  I 
believe  I'm  prepared  to  adore  a  necklace  of  big,  smooth, 
delicately  graded  pearls,  with  shimmery  skins,  and  a  fat, 
pear-shaped  black  pearl  drop  to  dangle  below  it.  Yes, 
that's  the  real  reason  I'm  making  money,  Aunt — to  buy 
and  wear  great  ropes  of  pearls.  Or,  who  knows,  I  may 
have  a  fancy  for  a  peer.  Now,  with  a  million,  I'm  told 
one  can  buy  for  marrying  purposes  a  really  fine  specimen 
of  pee*." 

"  There  are  moments,"  said  Mrs.  Craven  sharply,  "  when 
I'm  very  sorry  you're  grown  up." 

Kate  went  across  and  sat  on  the  arm  of  the  old  lady's 
chair.  "  Do  you  want  to  smack  me  and  put  me  to  bed  ?  " 

"  I've  done  it  many  a  time  when  you've  been  in  this 
mood." 

"  Can  you  see  the  black  dog  on  my  shoulder  ?  " 

"Larger  than  ever.  Kate,  you  should  try  and  control 
yourself." 

"  Oh,  be  just,  Aunt.  I  didn't  lie  down  on  the  floor  and 
kick  or  do  anything  like  that." 

"  No,  thanks  to  me  you  can  keep  your  temper  under 
more  decent  control  now.  Now,  don't  you  kiss  me,  and 
think  I'm  a  silly  old  woman,  and  try  to  get  round  me  that 
way — I  know  exactly  how  you're  feeling.  Oh,  you'd  lead 
any  man  a  dance  who  married  you." 

"I'm  certain  I  should,"  said  Kate  cheerfully,  "unless 


248  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

he  was  the  right  one.  But,  Auntie  dear,  don't  you  think 
it  would  be  safer  not  to  press  me  to  marry  anyone  at  all? 
I  give  you  my  word  for  it  that  there's  no  one  marriageable 
I  want  to  marry.  And  if  you  leave  me  alone  with  my 
other  amusement,  that  keeps  me  out  of  worse  mischief." 

At  the  Prince's  Park  house  in  the  old  days  there  had 
been  a  room  known  as  the  Master's  study.  It  had  no  books 
in  it  whatever,  because  the  excellent  Godfrey  disliked  books. 
It  had  a  writing-desk  certainly,  but  never  even  an  inkpot 
on  it  to  indicate  use.  There  was  just  a  card-table  and 
some  early  Victorian  furniture  of  hard,  uncompromising 
ugliness.  In  short,  it  was  not  the  Master's  study  at  all, 
but  it  emphatically  was  his  card-room. 

It  remained  in  its  original  state  till  Kate's  return  from 
the  Coast,  and  then  she  begged  it  from  her  Aunt,  who  gave 
it  gladly. 

"  I  want  a  place  where  I  can  type  a  letter,"  Kate  had 
said,  "  and  have  a  copying  press,  without  going  down  to 
Water  Street.  They  begin  to  stare  at  me  down  there,  and 
I  hate  it.  No  one  objects  to  a  girl  being  in  business  if  she 
is  merely  a  clerk,  but  if  she  gets  hold  of  big  successes,  well, 
the  men  aren't  nice  about  it.  If  I  find  it  answers,  I  may 
lay  on  a  secretary." 

So  she  emptied  the  room  and  furnished  it  afresh,  and 
Mrs.  Craven's  heart  warmed  as  she  saw  the  girl's  natural 
craving  for  a  home  express  itself  in  chairs  and  pictures, 
in  pretty  wall  hangings  and  dainty  carpets,  in  graceful 
flower-bowls,  and  all  those  little  touches  of  domesticity 
which  are  the  mysterious  outcome  of  sex.  There  was,  it 
turned  out,  a  small  box-room  alongside,  which  was  never 
used,  and  which  could  be  linked  up  by  a  door  knocked 
through  the  wall.  This  could  be  the  secretary's  room,  and 
hold  the  letter  files,  and  the  copying  press,  and  the  type- 
writer, and  all  the  other  crude  machinery  of  commerce; 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER  249 

and  so  "  Miss  Kate's  room/'  as  it  came  to  be  called,  fulfilled 
in  appearance  little  enough  of  its  original  intention  of 
office. 

One  can  hardly  associate  walls  panelled  in  rose-pink 
brocade  with  the  much-abused  art  of  company  promotion. 
But  Kate  sat  in  that  pretty  room,  and  thought  out  there 
all  those  tremendous  schemes,  which  brought  her  such  bril- 
liant success.  She  felt  she  had  retired  from  the  firing  line ; 
she  schemed  and  planned  in  secure  cover  outside  the  battle ; 
and  when  any  idea  eluded  her  for  too  long  she  went  out 
and  drove  her  motor  car,  or  played  golf,  till  the  idea  ar- 
rived. In  the  season  she  sometimes  went  away  on  butterfly- 
hunting  trips.  At  the  same  time  she  had  great  ideas  of 
buying  an  estate  where  she  could  have  a  private  golf  course 
of  her  own.  She  had  grown  so  strangely  sensitive  to  stares 
these  days,  and,  people  said,  unsociable.  Her  engagement 
to  Mr.  Austin  had  been  broken  off  long  ago,  and  to  tell 
the  truth  Austin  was  well  enough  pleased  to  be  rid  of  her. 
Africa,  he  felt,  had  eliminated  from  her  all  the  points  which 
beforetime  had  caught  his  admiration.  And  then  again 
she  was  so  enormously  rich  one  could  not,  he  told  himself, 
marry  a  woman  with  such  an  unwieldy  amount  of  riches. 
At  least  he  could  not.  Nor  did  he  intend  that  the  future 
Mrs.  Austin,  if  ever  there  was  one,  should  have  more  prac- 
tice in  high  finance  than  was  necessary  to  manage  her  own 
accounts  and  the  household  weekly  bills. 

In  fact,  it  was  over  this  question  that  he  flattered  himself 
had  come  their  split.  She  had  given  him,  to  be  sure,  a 
pretty  broad  hint  that  day  on  the  landing  stage,  but  the 
actual  rupture  of  their  engagement  had  not  come  till  a 
week  later,  and  Kate  was  clever  enough  to  make  Mr.  Austin 
think  that  the  idea  was  his  and  his  alone.  Still  they  had 
parted  on  excellent  terms,  and  any  service,  professional  or 
otherwise,  that  Austin  could  render  her  in  the  future  was 


250  KATE   MEKEDITH,    FINANCIES 

one  that  lie  should  look  forward  to,  as  he  promised,  most 
keenly. 

"  Though  you  cannot  see  your  way  to  be  my  husband," 
she  had  said  to  him  lightly,  "you  will  still  upon  occasion 
act  as  my  solicitor  ?  " 

"Let's  call  it  ' friend/  Kate,"  he  had  answered,  and 
they  parted  on  that. 

But  that  day,  after  Aunt  Jane  had  showed  her  the  Car- 
ter leader  in  the  paper,  Kate  went  to  her  room,  and  some- 
how her  thoughts  went  back  to  Henry  Austin.  She  tried 
to  analyze  why  she  had  ever  got  engaged  to  him.  As  far 
as  she  could  define  it,  a  sort  of  empty  space,  a  partial 
vacuum,  had  come  into  her  life,  and  Austin  appeared,  and 
in  a  tentative  way  seemed  to  fill  it.  Now  that  he  was  gone, 
the  'vacuum  returned.  It  did  not  exactly  ache,  but  it 
caused  a  vague  discomfort  that  annoyed  her,  and  when  she 
demanded  a  cure,  something  within  her  kept  repeating, 
"  Carter,  Carter,  Carter !  " 

She  resented  this  clamor.  She  told  herself  that  she  was 
a  strong  woman.  She  refused  to  have  her  hand  forced. 
She  declined  to  allow  an  ex-employe  of  her  own  to  be 
forced  into  her  life  as  its  only  complement.  And  still  that 
inner  something,  with  irritating  persistency,  kept  repeat- 
ing, "  Carter,  Carter,"  and  then  got  unpleasantly  familiar, 
and  began  to  murmur :  "  George." 

She  stood  it  for  an  hour,  stood  for  that  time  persistent, 
inward  voices  urging  her,  with  never  a  falter,  to  one  narrow 
course,  and  then  she  got  up  from  her  great  cushioned  chair 
and  went  to  an  old  Sheraton  bureau.  Only  one  narrow 
drawer  in  it  was  locked,  and  she  carried  the  key  of  that 
amongst  the  charms  on  her  watch-bangle.  She  opened  the 
drawer  and  took  from  it  a  photograph. 

It  was  only  a  steamer  group,  crudely  taken  by  an  ama- 
teur on  a  kodak  film,  a  very  imperfect  thing  at  its  best, 


She  gazed  her  fill  on  this  very  crude  presentment  of  George 
Carter.     Page  251. 


KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  251 

and  mottled  now  by  the  persistent  West  African  mildew. 
A  piece  of  brown  paper  with  a  hole  in  it  was  in  the  same 
drawer,  a  mask  so  cut  that  it  blocked  out  all  of  the  group 
except  one  individual.  She  fitted  this  into  place  and  gazed 
her  fill  on  this  very  crude  presentment  of  George  Carter. 

Well,  at  any  rate  he  was  not  a  handsome  man.  But 
there  was  something  about  even  this  indifferent  photograph 
that  gave  her  a  great  thrill.  It  touched  some  inward  chord 
that  no  other  power  on  earth  could  set  into  vibration,  and 
she  was  discomforted  thereby. 

The  gong  went  for  dinner.  She  ignored  it.  A  servant 
came  presently — she  had  added  to  the  number  of  servants 
at  the  Prince's  Park  house  and  Mrs.  Craven  accepted  the 
alteration  passively — and  the  servant  most  respectfully 
stated  that  dinner  would  be  served  in  ten  minutes,  and  was 
not  Miss  Kate  going  up  to  dress  ?  But  Miss  Kate  was  busy 
and  would  have  a  cup  of  tea  and  a  sandwich. 

Mrs.  Craven  below  got  the  news,  smiled  grimly,  and  ate 
an  extremely  good  dinner.  She  felt  a  fine  satisfaction  in 
having  set  to  work  exactly  the  right  influences  which  would 
bring  that  ridiculous  Kitty  to  her  senses. 

But  upstairs,  in  the  prettiest  room  in  Liverpool,  Kate 
wrestled  with  Fate.  She  pictured  the  man  that  the  mask 
singled  out  of  the  group:  Red  hair,  a  dogged  jaw,  ill-cut 
clothes,  and,  upon  occasion,  a  man  who  used  the  language 
more  fitted  to  an  underpaid  stevedore.  She  had  overheard 
Carter  discoursing  to  the  factory  at  large  that  night  of  the 
false  alarm  at  Mokki,  when  he  chided  the  Portuguese  and 
the  factory  boys  in  phrases  learned  from  Swizzle-Stick 
Smith.  Was  this  the  man  she  had  ever  fancied  for  a  hus- 
band ?  No,  a  thousand  times  no. 

She  locked  the  group  and  the  mask  once  more  into  its 
drawer,  and  went  back  to  her  cushions  and  a  novel.  There 
was  still  another  great  rubber  company  on  the  brink  of 


252  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER 

flotation.  This  time  the  pugilistic  Mr.  Smith  had  pro- 
cured for  her  the  grant  of  the  land,  and  had  assured  her 
that  the  King  of  Okky,  thanks  to  his  recent  improvement 
in  morals,  would  see  that  the  title  remained  unchallenged. 
The  proposition  was,  she  honestly  believed,  commercially 
sound,  but  the  risk  lay  in  the  British  Public.  Were  they 
loaded  up  with  rubber  stock  ?  That  was  the  point  to  decide. 
So  far  she  had  not  had  a  share  of  her  companies  under- 
written, in  spite  of  abundant  and  pressing  offers.  But  here 
was  an  awkward  question  to  decide :  Should  she  insure  this 
issue,  or  should  she  risk  having  it  not  taken  up,  and  invite 
a  fiasco? 

She  tried  with  cold  logic  to  reason  out  the  arguments 
for  and  against,  and  to  strike  a  balance  between  them. 
But  for  once  her  brain  refused  to  act.  Even  the  novel, 
which  she  read  and  did  not  absorb,  did  not  offer  her  the 
necessary  hint.  It  was  an  old  trick  of  hers,  this  reading 
of  a  dozen  chapters  of  weak  fiction,  to  get  an  inspiration, 
and  so  far  it  had  never  failed  her.  She  was  an  omnivorous 
novel  reader.  She  went  through  quite  two-thirds  of  the 
fiction  brought  out  annually  by  British  publishers,  and 
could  never,  next  morning,  have  passed  the  easiest  exami- 
nation in  a  novel  she  had  read  the  night  before.  But  all 
her  clever  business  ideas  were  evolved  when  she  was  read- 
ing these  paltry  books. 

At  last  she  could  endure  the  vague  things  that  oppressed 
her  no  longer.  She  dropped  the  book  on  the  floor.  And 
then  she  got  up  and  went  into  the  secretary's  narrow  room 
next  door.  She  found  cable  forms  and  sat  at  a  table. 
Then  she  wrote  glibly  enough  this  message. 

"  Burgoyne,  Monk  Ewer,  West  Africa.  Forward  this 
to  Cascaes  MokTci  special  runner  want  you  act  our  agent 
Las  Palmas  2,400  commence  cable  acceptance  or  refusal, 
O'Neill/' 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER  253 

She  counted  up  the  words,  laid  down  her  pencil,  and 
laughed.  "  At  any  rate,"  she  said,  "  that  will  give  one  a 
chance.  And  George  was  fool  enough  to  think  that  Mr. 
Cascaes  was  running  after  me.  Oh,  I  have  no  patience 
with  men  who  can't  see  further  through  the  fog  than  that/' 


CHAPTEE   XVIII 

CARTER    MAKES    A    PURCHASE 

IT  was  Captain  Image  returning  red  and  wrathful  from 
an  unsuccessful  cargo  foray  amongst  the  southern  and 
eastern  factories  that  Carter  met  the  day  after  his  arrival 
at  the  Coast.  The  mariner  had  heard  of  the  deal  at  Mokki, 
and  felt  personally  affronted  that  a  nest  of  cargo  which 
he  had  already  looked  upon  as  his  own  should  have  been 
handed  over  once  more  to  the  Germans. 

"  So  you're  on  the  beach,  are  you,"  said  he,  looking 
Carter  up  and  down  with  vast  disapproval.  "  I  must  say 
you  look  it.  I've  seen  old  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  come  down 
after  a  jaunt  in  the  bush  and  I  thought  he  couldn't  be 
beat  for  general  shagginess  and  rags.  But  you  give  him 
points.  What  did  Miss  Kate  bounce  you  for?" 

"I  believe  I  resigned." 

"  Same  thing.  And  now  you've  come  to  ask  me  to  take 
you  home  as  a  distressed  British  subject,  I  suppose.  Well, 
Carter-me-lad,  a  deck  passage  is  your  whack  according 
to  consular  understanding,  but  you've  sat  in  my  chart 
house  and  you've  sent  me  cargo,  and  so  I'm  going  to  put 
my  hand  in  my  own  breeches  pocket  and  take  you  home 
in  the  second  class.  And  I  tell  you  what:  Chips  and  the 
bo's'n  have  got  a  shop  in  the  foc's'le  that  I'm  not  sup- 
posed to  know  about,  and  if  you  care  to  go  in  there  and 
get  enough  rig  out  to  see  you  home,  I'll  foot  the  bill." 

"  You're  very  good " 

"  I  know  I  am.    It  puts  me  about  five  weeks  further  off 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  255 

that  hen  farm  outside  Cardiff  that  I  want  to  retire  onto, 
being  good  like  this.  There,  run  away  out  of  this  chart 
house,  me-lad,  and  tell  the  chief  steward  to  give  you  a 
square  blow-out  of  white-man's  chop  one-time.  I'm  sure 
you  need  it.  I  never  saw  a  man  with  so  much  of  the  lard 
stewed  off  him." 

Carter  laughed.  "  Will  you  let  me  slip  a  word  in  ?  I've 
cargo  for  you." 

"What!    You!" 

"  I'm  afraid  you  won't  hook  much  commission  out  of 
it,  Cappie,  as  you'll  have  to  take  it  at  ballast  rates." 

"  Catch  me." 

"But  there'll  be  about  seventy  tons  of  it  as  far  as  I 
can  reckon." 

"My  Christian  Aunt!  do  you  tell  me,  Carter-me-lad, 
that  you've  scratched  up  seventy  tons  of  cargo?  Here,  sit 
down.  No,  sit  down.  Don't  talk.  I'm  not  going  to  have 
you  going  away  and  calling  the  M'poso  a  dry  ship." 

Captain  Image  had  no  tariff  rate  for  tin  ore,  but  he 
invented  one  with  great  readiness,  and  then  knocked  off 
ten  per  cent,  by  way  of  encouraging  a  new  industry. 
"  Now,  where  is  this  mine  of  yours  ?  "  he  asked  genially. 
"  Tell  me,  and  I  warrant  I'll  find  you  an  easier  way  to 
bring  your  produce  than  paddling  it  in  dugouts." 

"  Up  the  river." 

"  Well,  let's  look  at  your  charts,  me-lad." 

Carter  shook  his  head. 

"Why,  how's  that?    Haven't  you  made  one?" 

"  Oh,  I've  made  one  right  enough,  but  it's  inside  my 
skull  and  out  of  public  view." 

"  H'm,"  said  Image.  "  Don't  want  any  competitors,  eh, 
Carter-me-lad  ?  " 

"  Why  should  I  ?  " 

"  Well,  drink  up,  and  let  me  fill  your  glass.  Here,  have 
another  squirt  of  bitters." 


256  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  No,  thanks,  Cappie,  no  more.  I  drank  enough  cham- 
pagne with  the  King  of  Okky  to  last  me  months.  I've  got 
a  lot  of  big  business  ahead  of  me  and  1  want  a  clear  head. 
Now,  if  you  take  this  consignment  of  tin  ore  home  for 
me,  and  rob  me  as  little  as  you  can  help  over  freight, 
what's  next?  Swansea  and  a  smelter,  I  suppose?" 

"  They're  a  bit  Welsh  down  in  Swansea,"  said  Captain 
Image,  who  came  from  Cardiff  himself.  "  They'll  do  with 
a  trifle  of  looking  after.  What  you  want's  a  smart  agent." 

"  The  thing  I  want  first  and  soonest  is  cash.  Now,  look 
here,  Cappie,  you  know  Swansea,  and  you're  fond,  by  the 
Coast  account,  of  a  bit  of  commission.  Well,  here's  a  nice 
lump  of  it  on  offer.  -If  you'll  get  some  smelter  firm  to 
buy  this  parcel  of  ore  on  assay,  and  pay  cash  for  it,  I'll 
give  you  five  per  cent,  on  what  you  raise." 

"  It's  a  deal.  You  couldn't  have  come  to  a  better  man, 
Carter-me-lad.  I'll  open  you  an  account  at  the  Bank  of 
West  Africa " 

"  And  get  the  whole  balance  cabled  out  here  ?  " 

"I  was  going  to  suggest  that,"  said  Captain  Image, 
doubtfully,  "  if  you  hadn't  rushed  me  so.  But  you  won't 
want  the  lot.  Now,  with  fifty  pounds  or  so " 

"  I  want  every  sixpence.  Man,  do  you  think  I'm  going 
to  nibble  at  my  cake  now  it's  been  given  me?  Kallee's 
straight,  I  firmly  believe.  But  what's  his  life  worth  ?  " 

Captain  Image  shook  his  head.  "Very  heavy  drinker 
even  for  a  darky,  and  of  course  he  hasn't  a  white  man's 
advantages  in  knowing  the  use  of  drugs." 

"Besides,  there  are  the  usual  risks  of  kings  and  of 
Africa.  He's  put  down  the  local  anarchist.  He  cooked 
the  only  two  who  tried  to  assassinate  him,  and  took  a  day 
about  it  over  slow  fire,  and  that  discouraged  the  breed  in 
Okky.  But  still  there  are  risks.  So  that  altogether  he's 
not  a  good  life,  and  if  he  was  to  go  out,  it's  quite  on  the 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  257 

cards  his  heirs,  successors,  and  assigns  might  not  recognize 
my  title/' 

"  You're  right,  me-lad.  What  you've  got  to  do  is  to  rip 
the  guts  out  of  that  mine  at  the  biggest  pace  possible,  and 
I'll  bring  in  the  M'poso  round  here  to  load  every  time  I 
come  along  the  Coast." 

Carter  nearly  laughed.  He  knew  the  capacity  of  his 
mine — quarry,  it  was,  rather — and  the  hold  space  of  the 
little  M'poso.  Tin  was  wavering  about  just  under  £176 
per  ton  just  then;  he  had  reckoned  that  he  could  produce 
for  £10  a  ton;  and  the  more  profit  he  could  get,  the  more 
pleased  he  would  be.  But  he  was  not  afraid  of  bringing 
down  the  price;  he  had  plenty  of  margin  for  a  cut.  His 
only  fear  was  that  the  river  road  might  be  stopped  before 
he  had  made  his  fortune.  And  he  intended  to  empty  the 
veins  of  Tin  Hill  at  the  highest  speed  that  all  the  strained 
resources  of  Africa  were  capable  of,  and  if  necessary  to 
keep  three  steamers  the  size  of  the  little  M'poso  ferrying 
his  riches  across  to  the  markets.  But  he  did  not  let  out 
any  word  of  this  to  Image.  If  the  locality  and  the  enor- 
mous wealth  of  this  mine  were  to  leak  out,  nothing  could 
prevent  a  rush.  At  the  existing  moment  he  was  penniless, 
and  in  any  great  influx  of  capital  and  men  must  inevitably 
be  swamped.  Secrecy  was  essentially  his  game  for  the 
present. 

So  he  accepted  Captain  Image's  proposal  in  the  spirit 
in  which  it  was  made,  and  then  put  forward  feelers  for  a 
steam  launch.  Was  there  such  a  thing  already  on  the 
Coast  that  one  could  pick  up  cheap  just  then? 

Captain  Image  lit  a  thoughtful  pipe.  "  I  don't  know 
of  any  little  steamboat  that  you  could  buy  just  now  out  here, 
cheap  or  dear.  There  are  one  or  two  in  Sarry  Leone,  cer- 
tainly, but  they  are  all  either  too  big  for  your  job  or  too 
tender  to  bring  round  the  Coast." 


258  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"I'm  a  bit  of  mechanic,  you  know.  I  wouldn't  mind 
nursing  engines.  My  boy,  White-Man's-Trouble,  too, 
would  make,  according  to  his  own  account,  a  pretty  de- 
cent second  engineer." 

"  Oh,  I  know  him.  Used  to  be  stand-by-at-crane  boy  on 
the  Secondee,  and  stole  everything  that  wasn't  nailed  down. 
But  you'd  never  get  one  of  those  Sarry  Leone  wrecks  round 
here  without  being  drowned  in  the  process.  I  tell  you 
what,  though.  D'ye  know  anything  about  motor  cars,  me 
lad?" 

"Why?"  asked  Carter,  who  had  never  handled  one  in 
his  life. 

"Because  at  Dutton  and  Maidson's  factory  at  Copper 
River  they've  got  an  old  wreck  of  an  oil  launch,  if  she 
hasn't  rotted  and  sunk  at  moorings,  that  you  could  have 
cheap." 

"Everything  cheap  is  dear  to  me  just  now.  I  haven't 
a  penny  in  my  pocket.  But  what  do  you  mean  by  cheap  ?  " 

"  Well,  she  certainly  wasn't  out  in  the  river  the  last  three 
times  I  called,  but  I  did  hear  they'd  hauled  her  up  a  creek. 
But  if  she  hasn't  sunk  at  moorings,  and  the  ants  haven't 
walked  off  with  her,  I  should  think  you  could  get  the  bits 
that  rust  couldn't  eat  for  three  ten-pound  notes." 

"Does  she  burn  gasolene?" 

"No,  ordinary  canned  paraffin.  I  know  that  was  sup- 
posed to  be  the  great  point  about  her  when  she  was  brought 
out.  Only  trouble  was,  she  didn't  seem  to  be  an  amateurs' 
boat  at  all,  and  after  the  first  week  or  so  there  wasn't  a 
soul  in  the  factory  that  could  get  her  to  steam  at  all.  So 
they  tied  her  up  to  a  buoy  and  did  their  business  in  the 
old  dugouts  and  the  surf  boats  as  formerly." 

"  I  wonder  if  the  old  chief  has  got  an  emery  wheel  down 
in  your  engine  room?" 

Captain  Image  stared  at  this  change  of  subject,  and  ran 


259 

a  finger  round  inside  his  collar  to  shift  the  perspiration. 
"  What  do  you  want  an  emery  wheel  for  ?  Sharpen  your 
wits  on  ?  " 

"  No,  my  razor.  If  I  go  and  try  and  buy  a  motor  launch 
with  this  red  wool  on  my  chin,  they'll  take  me  for  the 
wild  man  down  from  the  back  of  beyond  and  stick  up  the 
price." 

"  Quite  right.  You've  a  very  sound  business  mind, 
Carter-me-lad.  You  can,  I  believe,  get  a  very  sound  thing 
in  razors  for  a  shilling  at  that  fo'c'sle  shop  if  Chips  is  still 
keeping  one,  and  whilst  I  was  buying  I  should  get  a  bottle 
or  two  of  Eno,  if  I  were  you.  Capital  thing  to  keep  your 
liver  down  to  gauge." 

"  I  want  to  get  all  these  things,"  said  Carter  emphati- 
cally. "  I  daresay,  indeed,  I  should  like  to  buy  up  prac- 
tically the  whole  of  Chips'  remaining  stock,  partly  for  my 
own  use  and  partly  to  take  up  country.  But  the  fact  still 
remains  unaltered  that  until  I  can  get  an  advance  against 
bills  of  lading,  I  am  without  a  copper  in  my  pocket.  I 
suppose  that  greedy  hound  Balgarnie  is  the  man  to  see 
about  finance,  though." 

"  He  is  a  greedy  hound,  Carter-me-lad,  between  you  and 
me.  Let  me  fill  up  your  glass.  No,  don't  put  your  hand 
across  it.  Well,  I'll  finish  the  bottle  if  you  won't.  You're 
open,  just  as  a  matter  of  form,  to  giving  a  lien  on  that 
cargo  you're  shipping  ?  Just  as  a  matter  of  form,  of  course, 
in  case  you  peg  out  before  things  can  be  squared  up?" 

"  Certainly,  and  I'm  willing  to  give  five  per  cent,  per 
month  for  the  accommodation." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  me-lad,  ten  per  cent.'s  the  usual.  But 
I  don't  want  to  be  stiff  with  an  old  friend  like  you,  so 
we'll  call  it  seven  and  a  half."  Captain  Image  went  to  the 
drawer  under  the  chart  table  and  unlocked  it.  "  Come, 
now,  say  what  you  want.  Anywhere  up  to  fifty  pounds." 


260  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  I  couldn't  possibly  do  with  less  than  a  hundred,"  said 
Carter  definitely,  and  with  that  they  began  openly  to 
wrangle.  But  it  turned  out  that  Captain  Image,  even  with 
the  help  of  his  financial  partner,  Mr.  Balgarnie,  could  only 
raise  seventy-four  sovereigns,  and  with  that  the  other  had 
to  be  content.  He  gave  his  bond,  and  stood  at  the  head 
of  the  M'poso's  ladder  ready  to  go  back  to  his  boat.  But 
Captain  Image  with  genuine  hospitality  dragged  him 
back. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  let  you  go  like  this,  me  lad.  I've 
one  turkey  left  in  the  refrigerator,  and  if  you  peg  out  after- 
wards up  those  beastly  rivers,  I'd  always  like  to  think  I'd 
stood  you  one  good  dinner  when  the  chance  came  in  my 
way.  Come  now,  Carter-me-lad ;  turkey-chop?  There's 
not  another  skipper  on  the  Coast  that  would  make  you 
an  offer  like  that." 

Carter  laughed  and  gave  in,  and  turned  towards  the 
flesh-pots.  He  did  not  like  turkey.  Once  in  Upper 
Wharfedale  his  father  had  come  home  from  Skipton  with 
thirty  turkey  poults,  which  the  family  reared  with  very 
vast  care,  and  thereafter  had  to  eat.  Turkey  once  per 
annum  is  a  luxury;  twice  cloys;  but  thirty  times,  when 
legs  follow  breast,  and  wings  are  succeeded  by  side-bones, 
would  weary  any  man  living.  But  by  custom  in  West 
Africa,  turkey  from  a  steamer's  refrigerator  is  the  height 
of  luxury,  and  Carter  recognized  the  hospitable  motive. 

Captain  Image,  when  mellowed  by  food  and  wine  that 
night,  talked  of  Miss  Kate  O'Neill,  and  Carter  behind  an 
elaborate  indifference  listened  with  a  hungry  interest.  She 
was  floating  rubber  companies  it  appeared  with  enormous 
success.  She  had  very  nearly  been  engaged  to  a  law-sharp 
named  Austin,  but  had  got  out  of  it  in  time.  She  was  re- 
ported in  Liverpool  to  be  struck  on  some  palm  oil  clerk 
on  the  Coast,  but  Captain  Image  proclaimed  that  to  be 
rot,  and  what  did  Carter-me-lad  think? 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  261 

"Well,  of  course,  there  was  Cascaes,"  said  Carter  judi- 
cially, "but  I  don't  see  there  was  anyone  else.  All  the 
rest  of  the  men  she  met  out  here  were  either  married  or 
engaged/5 

But  George  Carter  whistled  cheerfully  to  the  stars  as 
his  boat-boys  paddled  him  up  through  the  steaming  man- 
groves to  his  abiding  place  that  night,  and  Mr.  Balgarnie 
and  Captain  Image  nudged  one  another  delightedly  as  they 
listened  to  his  music. 

Button  and  Maidson's  launch,  that  ought  to  have  served 
the  factory  in  Copper  River,  turned  out  upon  inspection 
to  be  even  worse  than  Captain  Image  had  forecasted,  and 
the  agent  in  charge  was  most  enthusiastic  in  accepting 
the  two  five-pound  notes  that  were  offered  for  her.  And 
thereafter  for  Carter  and  White-Man's-Trouble  began  a 
period  of  savage  toil. 

The  white  man  was  a  mechanic  born,  but  he  had  never 
seen  an  oil  engine  in  his  life,  knew  nothing  of  clutch, 
water-jackets,  or  reversing  gear,  and  had  to  make  his  first 
acquaintanceship  with  a  carburetor.  The  men  at  the  fac- 
tory were  frankly  ignorant  of  the  launch's  mechanism; 
said  so  indeed  before  they  sold  her. 

"But  I  know  we  have  got  a  plan-thing  of  the  works 
stowed  away  somewhere/'  the  agent  stated.  "  Can  you 
understand  a  machine  from  seeing  a  drawing?" 

"  Rather,"  said  Carter. 

"Well,  we'll  find  it/'  said  the  agent,  and  they  wasted 
two  days  in  turning  over  every  scrap  of  paper  the  factory 
contained,  but  the  blue  prints  refused  to  discover  them- 
selves. 

"Let  you  off  your  bargain  if  you  like,"  said  the  agent 
ruefully,  when  the  place  had  been  searched  through  with- 
out success. 

"  Not  a  bit,"  said  Carter.     "  Lend  me  a  couple  of  boys 


262  KATE   MEBEDITH,    FINANCIER 

and  I'll  take  those  engines  down  and  learn  'em  for  my- 
self." 

Now,  to  anyone  who  does  not  know  the  hot,  steamy 
climate  of  a  West  African  river  from  personal  experience, 
the  manner  in  which  unguarded  ironwork  can  decay  would 
sound  beyond  the  borderland  of  fact.  A  nut  left  long 
enough  on  a  bolt  in  that  moist  stew  of  heat  does  not  al- 
ways rust  fast.  As  often  as  not,  when  one  takes  hold  of  it 
with  a  spanner,  the  whole  thing  crumbles  away  into  oxide. 

The  forty-five-foot  launch,  when  Carter  first  took  her 
over,  lay  half  water-logged  in  the  middle  of  a  slimy  creek. 
She  was  an  open  boat  with  her  engines  housed  under  a 
wooden  hutch  aft,  which  had  been  further  reinforced  by 
some  rotten  tarpaulin.  She  had  no  in-board  reversing 
gear,  but  was  fitted  with  a  feathering  propeller,  which 
if  all  went  well  would  drive  her  astern. 

As  she  lay  there  she  was  a  perfect  picture  of  what  could 
be  done  by  neglect  and  ignorant  handling,  and  there  was 
not  another  man  then  resident  under  that  enervating  West 
African  climate  who  would  have  thought  her  worthy  of 
salvage.  But  Carter  had  got  just  that  dogged  drop  in  him 
that  brings  men  out  to  the  front,  and  he  proceeded  to  clean 
up  the  launch's  meagre  tools  and  her  spares,  to  borrow 
what  others  he  could  from  the  factory,  and  then  to  attack 
the  engines.  It  was  here  that  the  prodigiousness  of  his 
job  first  displayed  itself.  The  brasswork  was  sound  enough 
— even  West  Africa  could  not  eat  into  that — but  every- 
thing iron  was  spongy  with  rust,  and  he  had  to  set  up  a 
forge,  and  weld  and  shape  afresh,  out  of  any  scrap  he  could 
find  about  the  factory,  each  part  as  he  destroyed  it. 

There  was  no  such  thing  as  a  lathe  about  the  place; 
there  were  not  even  taps  and  dies.  He  had  to  punch  slots 
through  his  bolts  and  tighten  them  up  with  forged  and 
filed  wedges.  For  the  out-board  work  on  the  feathering 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  263 

propeller  he  put  the  launch  on  the  bank  and  worked  up 
to  his  armpits  in  the  stinking  slime,  fitting,  drilling,  and 
rivetting  with  his  imperfect  tools. 

The  labor  and  the  exposure  very  naturally  brought  its 
reward  in  a  sharp  dose  of  fever,  but  White-Man's-Trouble 
attended  to  that  after  the  manner  of  the  heathen,  and  he 
emerged  from  it  little  the  worse,  and  bore  with  composure 
the  derision  of  the  other  Europeans  at  the  factory  when 
they  saw  his  whitened  eyesockets. 

The  engines  were  not  ornamental  when  he  had  finished 
with  them,  and  they  were  cumbered  with  a  hundred  make- 
shifts; but  when  he  gave  the  whole  a  final  inspection,  he 
told  himself  that  no  vital  part  had  escaped  a  satisfactory 
repair.  By  a  merciful  chance  there  was  tube  ignition,  and 
after  a  good  deal  of  manipulation  he  got  the  burners  to 
light.  Then  when  the  bunsens  roared  and  the  tubes  glowed 
hot  in  their  cage,  he  and  the  Krooboys  ground  at  the  start- 
ing handle  and  turned  the  engines  till  the  sweat  ran  from 
them  in  rivulets.  In  England  Carter  had  heard  without 
understanding  that  internal  combustion  liked  their  "  right 
mixture."  He  was  thoroughly  practised  in  finding  the 
right  mixture  for  that  elderly  oil  engine  before  it  coughed 
itself  into  any  continuous  activity. 

The  heavy  oil  for  lubricating  that  had  originally  been 
sent  out,  Messrs.  Button  and  Maidson's  agent  still  had  in 
stock  because,  as  he  explained,  he  had  found  no  possible 
means  of  disposing  of  it,  and  the  ordinary  commercial 
square  tins  of  paraffin  were  part  of  the  wares  they  always 
held  in  quantity.  So  Carter  was  able  to  buy  fuel,  in  all 
abundance,  for  his  voyage.  Food  *also  he  laid  in,  and  a 
great  roll  of  canvas,  and  then  turned  to  his  host  to  say 
good-bye. 

"  Wait  a  bit,  man/'  said  the  agent,  "  and  we'll  build  you 
a  cabin  out  of  that  canvas  that  will  keep  at  least  the  thick 


264  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

of  the  dew  off  you  at  nights.  There  are  sockets  along  the 
gunwales  for  awning  stanchions  that  will  carry  bamboo 
side-poles  capitally,  and  we  can  lash  duplicate  roof-plates 
across  and  rig  you  a  double-roofed  tent  in  style." 

"Very  much  obliged/'  said  Carter,  "but  I  won't  wait 
for  that  now.  I  intend  to  do  it  as  we  go  up  river.  You'll 
notice  I  have  shipped  a  big  bundle  of  bamboos  for  the 
woodwork.  Good-bye." 

"  You  seem  in  the  devil  of  a  hurry." 

"  I  am.  Good-bye.  Now  then,  Trouble,  shove  over  that 
reversing  lever  to  make  the  boat  go  ahead.  Confound  you, 
that's  astern,  you  bushman.  There,  that's  better.  Good- 
bye all." 

"  Good-bye,  and  good  luck,"  said  the  agent,  and  he  told 
his  subordinates  at  supper  that  night  that  another  good, 
keen  man  had  gone  off  to  disappear  in  Africa. 

But  Carter  was  developing  into  one  of  those  tough,  tact- 
ful fellows  that  people  call  lucky  because  they  always  seem 
to  succeed  in  whatever  they  set  a  hand  to.  When  the  flood 
tide  was  under  her,  the  launch  coughed  her  way  up  the 
great  beer-colored  river  at  a  rate  that  sometimes  touched 
ten  knots  to  the  hour.  She  added  her  own  scents  of  half- 
burned  paraffin  and  scorched  lubricating  oil  to  the  crushed- 
marigold  odor  of  the  water,  and  disgusted  all  the  croco- 
diles who  pushed  up  their  ugly  snouts  to  see  what  came 
between  the  wind  and  their  nobility.  On  the  ebb  she  still 
hauled  up  past  the  mangroves  at  a  good  steady  two  miles 
every  hour. 

The  engine,  with  rational  treatment,  seemed  a  very  de- 
cent sort  of  machine,  though  the  feathering  propeller,  even 
till  its  final  days,  was  always  liable  to  moods  of  uncer- 
tainty, and  after  twenty-four  hours  of  sending  the  launch 
ahead,  would  without  any  warning  suddenly  begin  to  pull 
her  astern.  Still  these  erratic  moods  always  yielded  to 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  265 

treatment,  and,  considering  that  she  had  been  bought  with- 
out a  rag  of  reputation,  Carter  was  always  full  of  surprise 
at  prolonged  spells  of  good  behavior. 

He  did  not  go  up  direct  as  he  had  come  down  in  the 
King  of  Okky's  sixty  man-power  war  canoe.  He  pros- 
pected the  labyrinth  of  waterways  for  other  channels,  and 
charted  them  out  with  infinite  care.  He  intended  to  take 
every  possible  precaution  for  preserving  the  secrecy  of  his 
mine.  Even  if  he  was  followed,  and  he  took  it  for  granted 
that  on  some  future  voyage  he  presently  would  be  followed, 
he  wanted  to  be  able  to  puzzle  pursuit. 

At  a  point  agreed  upon  he  put  into  a  village  which 
sprawled  along  the  bank,  and  presented  the  King's  man- 
date, and  demanded  canoes.  The  villagers  gave  them  with- 
out enthusiasm  and  without  demur.  He  took  these  in  tow, 
great  cotton-wood  dugouts  that  would  hold  a  hundred  men 
apiece,  and  hauled  them  after  him,  winding  through  great 
tree-hedged  waterways  where  twilight  reigned  half  the  day, 
and  then  coming  out  between  vast  park-like  savannas  where 
the  sun  scorched  them  unchecked  and  grazing  deer  tempted 
the  rifle. 

When  he  arrived  at  Tin  Hill  again,  the  King's  finger 
had  left  a  visible  mark.  Great  heaps  of  picked  ore  lay 
along  the  waterside  ready  for  loading  the  flotilla.  "  Good 
man,  Kallee !  "  said  the  Englishman  appreciatively.  "  I'll 
dash  you  a  new  state  umbrella  for  that." 

The  water-bellows  organ  that  he  had  set  up  at  the  foot 
of  the  waterfall  bellowed  out  its  boo-paa-bumm,  and  against 
each  of  the  great  bamboo  pipes  there  fluttered  a  bunch  of 
red-dyed  feathers  to  show  that  that  other  ju-ju  man,  his 
majesty  of  Okky,  countersigned  the  warning  not  to  unduly 
trespass. 

Cargo  after  cargo  Carter  rushed  down  to  the  Coast,  and 


266  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

dumped  on  land  he  had  hired  behind  a  factory.  Ever  and 
again  he  sent  a  tidy  parcel  of  ore  to  a  smelter  in  England 
and  in  due  time  had  more  money  put  to  his  credit  at  the 
Bank  of  West  Africa.  But  he  did  not  try  any  expensive 
tricks  with  the  home  tin  market  just  then.  He  had  got 
out  a  new  launch,  a  more  solid  affair  this  time,  driven  by  a 
sixty  horse-power  gasolene  engine  that  had  low-tension 
magneto  ignition,  and  so  many  other  improvements  on  ite 
predecessor,  that  White-Man's-Trouble,  who  had  it  in 
charge,  tied  a  dried  monkey's  paw  to  the  compression  cock 
on  each  cylinder  head,  as  an  extra  special  protective  ju-ju. 

He  carried  a  cook  and  an  oil-stove  galley,  and  at  last 
even  bought  two  tin  plates  and  a  knife  and  fork  to  assist 
his  meals.  He  felt  it  was  pandering  to  luxury,  but  he 
did  it  all  the  same.  When  he  made  that  purchase  he  won- 
dered how  he  would  behave  in  a  woman's  society  after  so 
long  living  as  a  savage.  As  an  after-thought  he  told  him- 
self that  Laura  was  the  woman  he  had  in  his  mind,  and 
hoped  he  would  not  shock  her  with  his  crudities.  By  way 
of  carrying  out  good  intentions  to  the  full,  he  sat  down 
there  and  then  and  wrote  to  her,  and  marvelled  to  find 
how  little  he  had  to  say. 

Then  one  day  he  came  across  Slade. 

A  canoe  drew  in  alongside  as  he  was  towing  down  river 
with  his  tenth  cargo,  and  brought  off  a  note  which  said 
that  there  was  a  white  man  ashore  who  had  run  out  of 
everything  and  would  be  eternally  grateful  for  any  Eu- 
ropean food  that  could  be  spared,  and  would  gladly  give 
him  I.O.U.  for  same,  as  he  was  out  of  hard  cash  at  the 
moment  of  writing,  and  had  mislaid  his  check-book. 

Carter  had  his  misgivings,  but  sent  off  a  goodly  parcel 
of  food  and  tobacco,  and  continued  his  way  down  stream. 
But  the  channel  was  new  to  him — he  had  a  suspicion  of 
being  watched  on  his  ordinary  route — and  he  ran  on  a 


KATE   MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  267 

sandbar  on  an  ebbing  tide,  and  the  heavily  laden  dugouts 
were  soon  perched  high  and  dry.  So  White-Man's-Trouble 
switched  off  his  magneto  and  stopped  the  engines,  and 
Carter  put  a  hand  under  the  gauze  net  to  greet  his  pro- 
spective father-in-law. 

Slade  looked  curiously  at  both  the  launch  and  her  tow. 
"  You've  been  getting  hold  of  a  gold  mine  of  sorts,  I  hear. 
By  the  way,  as  you've  arranged  to  start  work  as  my  son- 
in-law,  I  suppose  I  ought  to  get  more  familiar  and  call 
you  Henry,  or  whatever  it  is." 

"  George,  as  a  matter  of  fact." 

"  I  believe  you're  right.  George  is  what  Laura  did  say. 
My  mistake.  Where  is  your  gold  mine  ?  " 

"  It's  tin.    And  it's  up  the  rivers." 

"  Oh,  keep  it  dark,  my  dear  fellow,  if  you  like.  Not  that 
it  makes  the  smallest  odds  as  far  as  I  am  concerned.  You'd 
never  catch  me  sweating  after  a  mine.  Besides,  as  a  point 
of  fact,  I'm  doing  pretty  well  at  my  present  job.  Getting 
rubber  properties,  you  know,  for  the  mysterious  Kate." 

"Miss  O'Neill." 

"  Oh,  certainly,  Miss  O'Neill,  if  you  prefer  it,  though  I 
don't  see  why  you  need  be  a  prig  with  me." 

"  My  late  employer,  you  know." 

"  Ah,  of  course.  And  you  admired  her  more  than  a  lit- 
tle, so  I  gathered  from  Laura's  letters,  though  she  care- 
fully refrained  from  saying  so." 

Carter  pulled  himself  through  the  mosquito  bar  and  hit 
the  edge  of  the  bunk.  "  Now,  look  here,  Slade,  I've  known 
you  ever  since  I've  been  on  the  Coast,  but  this  is  the  first 
time  we've  met  on  the  new  footing.  I  don't  want  to  quar- 
rel with  my  prospective  father-in-law,  but,  by  Christopher, 
if  you  don't  leave  Miss  O'Neill  out  of  the  tale  as  far  as 
I'm  concerned,  there's  going  to  be  a  row.  Kindly  remem- 
ber I'm  engaged  to  Laura,  and  intend  to  marry  her 
whether  you  like  it  or  whether  you  don't." 


268  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER 

Slade  laughed.  "  Nice  filial  sort  of  statement,  that ;  but 
don't  mind  me.  If  you  suit  Laura's  taste,  I'll  swallow 
you,  too.  I'm  sure  you'll  be  pleased  to  hear  that  I'm 
making  a  goodish  thing  of  it  myself  just  now.  Kate — I 
beg  your  pardon — Miss  O'Neill  pays  me  my  regular  screw, 
and  in  addition  gives  me  a  nice  sum  down  on  every  prop- 
erty I've  bought  for  her,  and  a  tidy  block  of  shares  when 
there's  a  company  floated.  I  shall  be  able  to  give  you  and 
Laura  a  decent  wedding  present — in  script.  By  the  way, 
is  she  at  Smooth  River  ?  " 

"  No,  Grand  Canary." 

Slade  stiffened.    "  How's  that  ?  " 

"Africa  wasn't  safe  for  her.  You  ought  to  be  dam' 
well  ashamed  of  yourself  for  leaving  her  here.  You  knew 
the  danger  from  old  Kallee  a  big  sight  better  than  she  did. 
And  you  left  her  without  a  cent  to  get  away  with  and  not 
an  ounce  of  credit." 

"  Then,"  said  Slade  stiffly,  "  do  I  understand  that  she's 
gone  to  the  islands  at  your  expense  ?  " 

"You  can  understand  what  you  please,"  said  Carter 
truculently. 

"  Are  you  married  to  her  ?  " 

"I  am  not  at  present.  I  shall  be  as  soon  as  it  suits 
Laura's  convenience  and  my  own." 

"You  will  kindly  understand  that  I  resent  your  inter- 
ference with  my  finances  and  my  daughter's." 

"  You  may  resent,"  said  the  prospective  son-in-law,  "  till 
you're  black  in  the  face,  and  I  shan't  lose  sleep  over  it." 

Bang  went  something  outside,  and  Slade  started.  "  Good 
Lord,"  he  said,  "  there's  somebody  firing  at  us.  Sit  down, 
man,  on  the  floor." 

"  Nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Carter  testily.  "  My  boy 
Trouble  has  got  the  engines  going  to  try  to  work  us  off 
this  bank,  and  with  his  usual  cleverness  he  has  contrived  a 


269 

back  fire,  that's  all.  There — you  can  smell  it.  Now,  I 
don't  think  you  are  a  quarrelsome  man  as  a  general 
thing?" 

"  Not  I.    Too  much  trouble  to  quarrel  with  people." 

"  Well,  I'll  just  ask  you  to  give  Laura  and  myself  your 
benediction,  and  leave  the  rest  to  us." 

Slade  let  off  his  limp  laugh.  "  If  a  wedding  present  of 
such  dubious  value  will  please  you,  I'm  most  pleased  to 
give  it.  Especially  as  I  see  you're  inclined  to  stick  to  my 
little  girl.  To  tell  the  truth,  I'd  heard  you  were  after 
somebody  else  and  it  made  me  rather  mad.  You  know  how 
rumors  float  about  in  the  bush." 

Carter's  lips  tightened.  "Who's  the  other  person, 
please  ?  " 

"  Oh,  just  my  present  employer — and  your  late  one. 
But  I've  no  doubt  it's  all  a  mistake." 

"  If  you'll  apply  to  her,  I've  no  doubt  she'll  endorse  that 
sentiment  most  thoroughly.  I  don't  think  Miss  O'NeilFs 
a  person  to  throw  herself  away  on  one  of  her  own  ex- 
servants." 

Slade  chuckled.  "  If  you  put  it  that  way,  I'm  sure  she 
isn't.  By  the  way,  do  you  know  who  she  is  ?  " 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you've  discovered  by  this  time  that  the 
late  Godfrey  O'Neill  was  a  bachelor,  and  Kate's  no  relation 
to  him  at  all.  He  and  his  sister  Jane,  who  married  a  hope- 
less blackguard  called  Craven,  adopted  her  between  them 
and  brought  her  up.  I've  never  fagged  myself  to  find  out 
how  she  was  bred,  but  you're  one  of  these  energetic  fellows 
that  like  to  dig  into  pedigrees,  and  I  thought  probably 
you'd  know." 

"  I  don't  know,  and  I  shan't  inquire." 

"  All  right,  don't  get  excited  about  it,  neither  shall  I. 
D'ye  know  I  think  if  you  could  soften  that  genial  man- 


270  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

ner  without  straining  yourself,  it  would  be  an  improve- 
ment. I'm  led  to  believe  that  fathers-in-law  expect  a 
civility  and  even  at  times  a  certain  mild  amount  of 
deference." 

"  Did  you  defer  to  your  father-in-law  ?  "  asked  Carter 
brutally. 

The  tone  was  insulting  and  the  meaning  plain,  and 
ninety-nine  men  out  of  a  hundred  in  a  similar  place  would 
have  resented  it  fiercely.  But  Slade  merely  yawned.  His 
sallow  face  neither  twitched  nor  changed  its  tint.  He  got 
up  and  stretched  himself  lazily.  "  So  that's  the  trouble, 
is  it  ?  Well,  you  didn't  ask  me  to  consult  you  when  I  chose 
a  wife,  and  I  didn't  ask  you  to  fall  in  love  with  my 
daughter."  He  turned  his  head  and  eyed  Carter  thought- 
fully— "  You  are  in  love  with  her,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Can  you  suggest  any  other  possible  reason  why  I  should 
ask  her  to  marry  me  ?  " 

"Well,  I  can  hardly  imagine  you  did  it  for  the  honor 
of  an  alliance  with  me.  I  suppose  if  I  were  an  energetic 
man  I  should  try  and  worry  out  what  it  is  you're  so  sore 
about.  It  must  be  something  beyond  the  detail  that  Laura's 
got  a  touch  of  color  in  her,  because  of  course  you  knew 
that  from  the  first  moment  you  met  her.  But  I  guess  the 
something  else  will  show  itself  in  its  own  good  time.  In 
the  meanwhile  if  you'll  give  me  an  account  of  what  you 
advanced  to  Laura  for  this  Grand  Canary  trip,  I'll  give 
you  an  I.O.U.  for  it.  I  don't  care  to  be  indebted  to  any- 
one for  things  like  that." 

"  I'll  perhaps  send  in  the  bill  when  I  hear  there's  a 
possibility  of  getting  cash  payment,"  said  Carter  dryly. 

And  then  for  the  first  time  Slade  lost  his  temper,  and 
he  cursed  his  future  son-in-law  with  all  an  old  Coaster's 
point  and  fluency.  Every  man  has  his  tender  point,  and 
here  was  Owe-it  Slade's.  Throughout  all  his  life  he  had 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  271 

never  paid  a  bill  if  he  could  help  it,  and  he  had  accepted 
the  consequent  remarks  of  injured  parties  with  an  easy 
philosophy.  But  it  seemed  he  owned  a  nice  discrimina- 
tion ;  some  items  were  "  debts  of  honor/'  and  these  he 
had  always  sooner  or  later  contrived  to  settle.  And  the 
account  which  he  decided  he  owed  Carter  for  Laura's  main- 
tenance in  Grand  Canary  he  set  down  as  one  which  no 
gentleman  could  leave  unpaid  without  besmirching  his 
gentility. 


CHAPTEK  XIX 

SENHOE    CASCAES 

Now,  as  the  servant  of  O'Neill  and  Craven,  Carter  had 
done  his  work  well  and  indeed  enthusiastically,  and  after 
he  had  left  the  firm's  employ  he  had  neither  competed 
with  them  in  business  nor  done  them  harm  in  any  way 
whatever.  It  is  true  that  at  his  memorable  interview  with 
the  King  of  Okky  with  a  little  persuasion  he  could  have 
got  that  grateful  monarch  to  take  off  the  embargo  which 
he  had  laid  on  the  factories  at  Monk,  Malla-Nulla,  and 
Smooth  River,  though  the  fact  that  he  did  not  put  forward 
pressure  on  this  point  could  hardly  have  reached  the  ear 
of  Miss  O'Neill.  Indeed  it  is  to  be  doubted  if  she  ever 
knew  that  any  reference  to  her  name  or  affairs  cropped  up 
at  all. 

But  be  that  as  it  may,  she  certainly  from  the  date  of 
sending  her  cable  to  Cascaes  began  to  interest  herself  in 
opposing  Carter's  schemes. 

The  first  he  knew  of  it  was  a  typewritten  letter  from 
Liverpool  on  the  firm's  note-paper  beginning  "  Dear  sir," 
and  ending  "  O'Neill  &  Craven,  per  K.  O'Neill."  In  arid 
business  sentences  it  understood  he  had  "  a  tin-mining 
proposition  up  Smooth  River,"  it  pointed  out  that  "our 
firm  for  many  years  has  had  very  far-reaching  interests  in 
this  neighborhood,"  and  it  suggested  that  O'Neill  and 
Craven  should  buy  the  mine  "  to  prevent  any  clash  of  in- 
terests." 


273 

Carter  replied  to  this  curtly  enough  that  Tin  Hill  was 
not  in  the  market,  and  took  the  next  boat  home  to  Liver- 
pool. He  had  picked  up  a  distressed  merchant  skipper 
named  Kettle,  and  put  him  in  charge  of  the  motor  boat, 
and  the  canoes,  and  the  mining  work  generally,  and  though 
in  their  short  interview  he  decided  that  Kettle  was  the 
most  tactless  man  in  Africa,  he  believed  him  to  be  honest, 
and  instinctively  knew  him  to  be  capable. 

"  One  thing  I  must  ask,"  he  said  at  the  end  of  their 
talk,  "  and  that  is  that  you  do  not  try  any  proselytizing  up 
here.  Your  creed,  I  have  no  doubt,  is  very  excellent  at 
home,  but  out  here  where  they  are  either  Moslemin  or 
nothing  it  will  only  stir  up  disputes,  and  that  I  won't 
have.  Is  that  quite  agreed  ?  " 

"  I  have  learned,  sir,"  said  the  sailor,  "  to  obey  orders 
to  the  letter  even  though  I  know  them  to  be  against  an 
owner's  best  interests." 

"Um,"  said  Carter,  and  stared  at  him  thoughtfully. 
"  Well,  Captain,  I  think  it  would  be  safest  if  you  went  on 
those  lines.  You  will  find  your  chief  engineer,  who  carries 
the  name  of  White-Man's-Trouble,  beautifully  unreliable 
in  most  things,  but  he  understands  the  launch's  engines 
wonderfully,  and  I  like  him.  I'd  take  it  as  a  favor  if 
you'd  deal  with  him  as  lightly  as  possible." 

"  I'll  bear  your  words  in  mind,  sir,  though,  as  a  man 
who  has  handled  everything  colored  that  serves  afloat,  I'd 
like  to  point  out  that  pampering  spoils  them." 

"  The  only  other  point  to  remember  is  that  I've  made 
my  name  up  these  rivers  mainly  by  being  known  as  a  ju-ju 
man — sort  of  wizard,  in  fact.  You'll  have  no  difficulty,  I 
suppose,  in  following  up  that  line  now  I've  given  you  the 
hint?" 

"  You'll  pardon  me,  sir>  but  if  that's  made  an  essential, 
I  must  chuck  up  the  job,  sorely  in  need  of  employment  as 


274  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

I  am  at  the  moment.  I  have  my  conscience  to  consider. 
And  besides  as  a  liar  I  am  the  poorest  kind  of  failure." 

"  Pooh,  man,  it's  only  a  little,  acting  that's  required." 

"  Mr.  Carter,"  said  the  sailor  still  more  stiffly,  "  you  see 
in  me  a  man  who's  sunk  very  low,  but  I've  never  descended 
yet  to  working  as  a  theatrical.  According  to  our  Persua- 
sion, we  hold  that  play  acting  is  one  degree  less  wicked 
than  bigamy,  and  indeed  often  leads  to  it." 

"Well,"  said  Carter,  "that  mail-boat  sails  in  half  an 
hour's  time,  and  I've  got  to  go  by  her.  I've  been  building 
on  you,  Captain,  as  the  most  trustworthy  man  now  knock- 
ing about  in  West  Africa." 

"  I'm  all  that,  sir." 

"  So  I  shall  have  to  respect  your  scruples  and  give  you 
the  billet." 

"  You  shall  never  regret  it  for  one  minute,  sir.  You'll 
find  the  address  of  Mrs.  Kettle  on  this  slip  of  paper,  and  if 
you'll  post  three-quarters  of  my  wages  to  her  as  they  fall 
due,  I'd  take  it  as  a  favor.  I've  been  out  of — well,  I 
won't  pester  you  with  domestic  matters,  sir,  but  the  fact 
is  I'm  afraid  she  must  be  in  very  poor  circumstances  just 
at  the  moment." 

"  She  shall  have  a  check  posted  the  day  after  I  land  in 
Liverpool.  I  give  you  my  word  for  that." 

"  I  thank  you,  Mr.  Carter.  Now,  if  you  wanted  another 
officer,  there's  a  Mr.  McTodd,  an  engineer  who's  just  now 
at  Akassa,  that  I  could  get." 

"  Thanky,  Captain,  but  not  for  me." 

"  I  believe  I  could  persuade  him  to  take  a  low  wage." 

"  Not  for  me,  Captain.  I  know  McTodd.  He's  far  too 
thirsty  and  far  too  cantankerous.  You'd  find  him  a  ugly 
handful." 

"Me!  By  James,  sir,  I  can  handle  that  swine  in  a 
way  that  would  surprise  you.  He's  had  a  bad  up-bringing ; 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  275 

he  belongs  to  the  Free  Kirk;  but  after  I've  had  the  ma- 
nipulation of  Mr.  McTodd  for  a  week,  I  can  make  him  as 
mild  as  Norwegian  Swiss  milk/' 

"  Well,  we'll  say  '  not  for  the  present,'  at  any  rate.  With 
the  organization  I've  got  together,  and  the  backing  from 
the  King  of  Okky  that  I've  told  you  about,  you'll  be  able 
to  haul  down  all  the  available  ore  if  you  follow  out  my 
instructions,  and  when  it  comes  to  bonus,  Captain,  if  you've 
been  successful,  you'll  find  me  a  generous  paymaster.  I 
don't  toil  for  nothing  myself.  I  work  about  ten  times  as 
hard  as  my  neighbors,  and  draw  in  about  seventeen  times 
as  much  pay.  I  like  a  man  who  has  got  the  same  ambi- 
tions." 

The  little  sailor  sighed.  "  I've  always  done  ten  times 
the  normal  whack  of  work,  sir,  but  somehow  I've  missed 
fingering  the  dibs.  I  tell  you  flat,  fourteen  pounds  a 
month  has  been  good  for  me,  and  month  in  and  month 
out  I've  not  averaged  ten." 

"  Then,  if  that's  the  case,"  said  Carter  briskly,  "  just 
here  should  come  the  turn  in  your  fortunes.  Shake  hands, 
Captain.  Good-bye  to  you,  good  health  and  good  luck. 
Here's  my  surf  boat.  The  steamer's  heaving  short." 

"  Good-bye,  sir,"  said  Kettle,  "  I'm  sure  you'll  remember 
to  send  that  check." 

The  mail-boat  called  as  usual  at  Las  Palmas  and  was 
boarded  on  arrival  by  the  usual  batch  of  invalids  and 
Liverpool  trippers  for  the  run  home.  Carter  landed  as 
soon  as  the  port  doctor  gave  clearance  papers,  rowed  to  the 
mole  and  chartered  a  tartana,  between  whose  shafts  there 
drooped  a  mouse-colored  mule.  In  it  he  bumped  over  the 
badly  laid  tram  lines  from  the  Isleta  to  the  city,  and  then 
left  the  city  by  the  Telde  road. 

Las  Palmas  is  the  meeting  place  of  all  West  Africa,  and 


276  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

if  one  is  there  long  enough,  one  expects  to  meet  sooner  or 
later  every  man  who  has  business  or  other  interests  on  the 
Coast.  Carter  waved  his  hand  to  a  Hausa  constabulary 
officer  in  the  gateway  of  the  Catalina,  and  to  a  Lagos 
branch  boat  skipper  who  was  standing  on  the  steps  of  the 
Elder  Dempster  office.  Coming  down  from  the  telegraph 
station  he  saw  one  of  the  Germans  who  had  been  frightened 
out  of  Mokki,  and  under  a  cafe  awning  by  the  dry  river 
bed  no  less  a  personage  than  Burgoyne  of  Monk  River 
waved  a  hospitable  hand  and  invited  him  to  try  a  glass  of 
Bass. 

But  further  on,  where  the  Telde  road  leaves  the  city,  he 
saw  a  man  whose  walk  he  knew,  and  instinctively  leaned 
out  from  the  tartana's  awning  to  show  himself,  and  to 
wave  a  greeting.  The  man  was  Cascaes.  But  the  Senhor 
Cascaes  stared  him  coolly  in  the  face,  and — cut  him  dead. 

The  tartana  rattled  on,  and  Carter  nodded  after  the 
Portuguese  thoughtfully.  "  You  have  always  hated  me 
pretty  tenderly,"  he  mused.  "  I  wonder  why.  I've  ham- 
mered you  a  dozen  times,  but  it's  only  been  in  the  ordinary 
way  of  business,  and  what  any  half-baked  Portuguese  has 
got  to  expect.  You  surely  can't  be  up  against  me  for 
that." 

Laura  was  not  living  in  the  convent,  but  lodged  in  the 
house  of  a  banana  farmer  just  beyond.  Carter  found  her 
in  the  garden.  She  was  sitting  on  the  end  of  a  bench  over- 
hung with  great  lavender  clots  of  wistaria  at  one  end  and 
shaded  by  a  purple  mass  of  bougainvillea  at  the  other. 
He  noted  with  a  queer  thrill  that  there  was  something 
cold  in  the  outward  form  of  her  greeting. 

She  returned  his  kiss  accurately  enough,  but  without 
enthusiasm.  Still,  from  the  moment  she  saw  him,  the  light 
came  into  her  eyes  that  he  had  grown  to  know  so  well. 
The  two  things  did  not  seem  somehow  or  other  to  tally. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  277 

Carter  sat  himself  on  the  bench  and  took  a  good  hold  on 
his  nerves.  Then  he  slid  an  arm  round  her  waist  and 
drew  her  to  him.  "  Well/'  he  said,  "  out  with  it.  What's 
the  trouble?" 

She  dropped  her  head  on  his  shoulder  contentedly  enough. 
"  Oh,  the  usual.  When  you're  away  from  me,  dear,  I  never 
feel  quite  certain  if  I  ought  to  marry  you." 

"  Now,  that's  awkward,  isn't  it  ?  But  as  I  have  been 
up  country  colloguing  with  your  other  suitor,  old  Kallee, 
you  couldn't  very  well  have  been  with  me  there." 

"  I  wish  you  hadn't  gone." 

"  How  delightfully  unreasonable !  We'd  nothing  to  boil 
the  pot  on  before,  and  now  we've  plenty,  and  neither  of  us 
is  a  bit  the  worse.  What's  broke  since  I've  been  away  ?  " 

"  The  world,  I  think,"  said  Laura  miserably. 

"  Then  I  hope  I'm  the  sticking  plaster  that  will  mend 
it.  Now,  I  want  to  hear  all  about  Las  Palmas,  and  what 
you  have  been  doing.  I  see  most  of  West  Africa's  here. 
Great  Christopher !  but  it  is  fine  to  smell  even  the  outside 
edge  of  civilization  once  more.  My  mother  used  to  get 
tired  of  Wharfedale  occasionally — ah,  well,  but  that 
wouldn't  interest  you." 

"  No,  you  always  cut  yourself  short  when  you  begin  to 
talk  about  your  people." 

"  Do  I  ?  Well,  what's  sauce  for  the  gander's  sauce  for 
the  goose  and  you're  the  goose.  Did  you  ever  speak  to  me 
about  your  folk  ?  Not  one  word,  unless  I  dragged  it  out. 
Look  here,  Laura,  are  you  trying  to  wrangle?  Because  if 
so,  and  if  it's  my  fault,  just  say  what's  the  crime,  and 
give  me  my  licking  and  get  it  over.  I've  got  a  clear  con- 
science, and  I'll  be  as  penitent  as  you  please." 

"  My  dear,  you've  been  perfect." 

"  Oh,  I  say,"  said  Carter,  "  not  too  sudden.  That  sort 
of  thing  brings  on  heart  attacks." 


278  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"  I  know  your  temptations,  and  you've  been  an  honorable 
gentleman  all  through." 

"  I  wish,"  said  Carter  whimsically,  "  you  could  persuade 
other  people  to  look  at  me  in  that  light.  A  missionary  on 
the  steamer  yesterday  called  me  a  gin-selling  ruffian  be- 
cause I  happened  to  be  sitting  in  his  deck  chair;  one  of 
the  Protectorate  officials  a  week  ago  accused  me  of  being 
a  smuggling  gun-runner,  because  I've  been  up  country  and 
happened  to  get  on  with  the  native  local  headmen  instead 
of  scrapping  with  them,  and  Miss  K.  O'Neill,  of  our  mu- 
tual acquaintance,  has  given  me  to  understand  that  if  I 
don't  quit  poaching  on  what  she's  pleased  to  call  O'Neill 
and  Craven's  territory,  she'll  run  me  out  01  business.  To 
give  her  her  due  I  gather  she  proposes  to  pay  me  something 
to  clear  out." 

"  And  you're  going  to  take  it  from  her  ?  " 

"  Don't  say  '  her '  so  tragically.  I'm  not  going  to  take 
anything  from  her,  or  from  anyone  else.  I've  got  a  mine, 
and  it's  a  nailing  good  mine,  and  I'm  going  to  run  it  by 
my  lone  or  bust.  It  isn't  a  thing  you  could  sell  to  a  com- 
pany, and  besides  it  isn't  one  of  those  mines  one  would 
care  to  sell.  It's  too  good  for  that.  It's  just  a  fortune  for 
two  people,  and  one  of  them  is  presently  going  to  sign 
herself  Laura  Carter." 

"  George,  you're  quite  the  best  man  on  earth." 

"  I  doubt  it  myself  at  times.  By  the  way,  who  should 
I  see  down  in  Las  Palmas  just  now  but  Cascaes.  He  did 
me  the  honor  of  ignoring  my  existence.  It  wasn't  the  un- 
shaved  Coast  Cascaes  either;  he'd  got  a  clean  blue  chin, 
and  the  rest  of  him  was  dressed  fit  to  kill.  Now,  what  is 
the  mysterious  Cascaes  doing  here?" 

"He's  O'Neill  and  Craven's  agent  for  Grand  Canary. 
I  thought  you'd  heard." 

"  No,  it's  news  to  me.  It's  news,  moreover,  that  they 
had  any  business  here  that  required  an  agent." 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  279 

"  They  haven't." 

"  Hum,"  said  Carter.  "  Miss  O'Neill  doesn't  pay  a  sal- 
ary without  getting  value  for  it.  Now  this  is  one  of  her 
deep-laid  schemes." 

Laura  looked  at  him  queerly.  "Yes,"  she  said,  "this 
is  one  of  Kate's  deep-laid  schemes,  George.  I  wonder  if 
you  can  see  through  it." 

The  sun  above  them  scorched  high,  and  the  cool  white 
buildings  of  the  banana  farmer  threw  the  shortest  of 
purple  shadows.  The  fresh  breath  of  the  trade  rustled 
the  ferns  and  the  palm  leaves  of  the  garden,  and  stirred 
the  great  masses  of  the  bougainvillea  into  rhythmical 
movement.  "  It's  grand  to  be  in  a  place  like  this  after 
a  spell  on  the  Coast,"  said  Carter. 

"  Do  you  prefer  it  to  England  ?  "  Laura  asked  pointedly. 

Carter  held  down  a  sigh.  "  I  believe  I  do,"  he  said 
steadily.  "  Come,  now,  old  lady,  what  do  you  say  ?  Shall 
we  buy  a  property  here  in  Grand  Canary,  and  settle  down, 
and  grow  the  finest  flower  garden  in  the  island  ?  " 

"  But  roses  are  your  favorite  flower  and  they  don't  do 
well  here  in  the  South." 

"  Oh,  it's  roses  that  my  father  cares  for,  at  least  he  and 
the  mater  together  run  the  roses  at  home.  But  I  think 
my  taste  runs  more  to  bougainvillea,  say — and  great  trees 
of  scarlet  geranium  with  stalks  as  thick  as  one's  leg,  and 
palms,  and  tree  ferns.  Besides,  a  garden  means  irrigation 
here,  and  I've  never  had  a  real  water-works  scheme  of  my 
own  to  play  with  since  I  was  a  kid  and  worked  out  a  most 
wonderful  system  by  the  old  smelt  mill  at  home.  Yes,  we 
should  have  great  times  gardening  out  here." 

They  had  never  said  so  in  words,  but  both  of  them  knew 
that  George  Carter  would  never  take  Laura  back  to  Eng- 
land when  once  he  had  married  her,  and  the  girl  through 
all  her  fierce  tropical  love  for  him  recognized  what  this 


280  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

self-denial  must  cost  and  valued  it  to  the  full.  But  pres- 
ently she  brought  him  back  to  the  matter  they  had  been 
talking  of  before. 

"  Can't  you  see  why  Kate  sent  Senhor  Cascaes  here, 
George  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  given  him  another  thought.  Besides,  al- 
though Miss  O'Neill  is  seeing  fit  to  interfere  with  me,  I 
don't  intend  to  meddle  with  her." 

"  I  think  you  ought  to  defend  what's  your  own." 

"  Certainly  I  shall.  Can  anyone  accuse  me  of  not  doing 
so?  But  I  don't  see  why  you  keep  harping  on  Cascaes. 
The  man  is  an  open  admirer  of  Miss  O'Neill's,  and  I 
suppose  she's  tickled  thereby.  Anyway  that's  the  only 
reason  I  can  see  why  she  should  have  provided  him  with 
a  job." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  jrou  think  it  is  Kate  the  Senhor 
Cascaes  is  running  after  ?  " 

"  Certainly  I  do.    Who  else  was  there  at  Mokki  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  I've  so  few  attractions  then  ?  " 

"  But,  my  good  girl,  you're  engaged  to  me,  and  he  knew 
it  all  along.  There  was  no  secret  about  our  engagement. 
Everybody  about  the  factory  knew  of  it." 

"  And  because  a  girl  is  engaged,  or  even  married,  do  you 
think  that's  any  bar  to  another  man  admiring  her  ?  " 

Carter  whistled.  "  I've  been  a  blind  ass,  and  I  must 
say  I  did  refuse  to  listen  to  the  highfalutin'  nonsense 
Cascaes  wanted  to  pour  into  my  sympathetic  ear.  How 
often  have  you  seen  him  here  in  Grand  Canary  ?  " 

"  He  has  called  every  day." 

"  That's  not  answering  my  question." 

"  George,  dear,  give  me  credit  for  loyalty.  He  told  me 
one  day  when  you  were  building  that  fort  at  Mokki  that 
he  liked  me,  and  that  if  the  Okky-men  came  he  would  die 
cheerfully  before  any  harm  should  come  to  me;  and  I  told 


KATE    MEKEDITH,   FINANCIEK  281 

him  that  he  had  no  right  to  say  such  things  to  a  girl  who 
was  engaged  to  you." 

"Why  wasn't  I  told  of  this?" 

"Because  he  said  to  me  he  had  nearly  shot  you  once, 
and  I  was  afraid  that  if  there  was  any  trouble,  dear,  you 
might  be  hurt." 

"  You  could  have  trusted  me,"  said  Carter  dryly,  "  to 
keep  my  end  up  with  a  dago  like  that.  Besides,  if  you'd 
given  me  the  tip,  I  could  have  seen  to  it  that  I  had  the 
drop  on  him  first." 

Laura  shivered.  "  You  are  rather  mediasval.  I  don't 
want  to  be  fought  for." 

"  Still,  I  gather  from  what  you  say  that  you've  been 
seeing  the  fellow  here?" 

"  Never  when  I  could  help  it.  Each  day  I've  refused  to 
see  him  when  he  came  to  the  house.  But  he  has  waited 
for  me  whei.  I  went  out  into  the  country,  and  once  he  was 
here  in  the  garden,  sitting  on  this  very  seat,  when  I  came 
out  after  lunch." 

"  Does  he  always  tell  the  same  old  tale  ?  " 

"  He  says  always  he  wants  to  marry  me." 

"  I  thought  you  said  you  refused  to  listen  to  him  ?  " 

"  George,  don't  be  unreasonable.  I've  told  him  over 
and  over  again  it's  no  use ;  I've  gone  away  every  time  we've 
met;  but  it  seems  to  be  the  one  occupation  of  his  life." 

"  Except  for  running  after  you,  I  can  imagine  he  does 
have  plenty  of  time  on  his  hands  out  here." 

"  Don't  you  think,  George,  he  was  sent  to  the  island  to 
have  nothing  to  do  except  that?" 

"  Sent  here  who  by  ?  By  Miss  O'Neill,  do  you  mean  ? 
Great  Christopher !  Laura,  what  morbid  idea  will  you 
have  in  your  head  next?  I  don't  flatter  myself  that  out- 
side business  Miss  O'Neill  cares  whether  I'm  alive  or  dead, 
and  as  for  you,  well,  the  pair  of  you  may  be  friendly 


282  KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK 

enough  when  you  were  kids,  but  you  seemed  to  have  out- 
grown any  past  civilities  last  time  I  saw  you  together  on 
the  Coast.  Don't  you  go  and  run  away  with  any  wild  cat 
notions  about  Miss  O'lSTeill.  She's  got  one  amusement  in 
the  world,  and  that's  business,  and  if  she's  sent  Cascaes 
here  to  Las  Palmas,  you  can  bet  your  best  frock  the  only 
job  he's  got  in  view  so  far  as  she's  concerned  is  dividend 
hunting.  Apropos  of  which,  I  nearly  forgot.  Here's 
something  to  practise  your  autograph  in." 

"  Why,  it's  a  check-book." 

"  Clever  girl.  Guessed  it  in  once.  I  just  opened  a 
credit  for  you  down  at  the  bank  in  Las  Palmas  for  £500 
to  be  going  on  with.  That's  for  chocolate,  and  hairpins, 
and  a  mantillina,  and  the  latest  thing  in  Spanish  slippers. 
I  say,  Laura,  you  must  get  a  pair  of  those  tan  ones,  with 
the  laces  tied  in  a  bow  just  down  over  the  toe.  And  if 
you  don't  go  through  the  lot  whilst  I'm  a\  ay  squaring 
mine  matters  up  in  England,  I  shall  take  you  solemnly 
round  the  shops  when  I  come  back  here,  and  buy  you  a 
trousseau  of  all  the  ugliest  and  most  unbecoming  garments 
they  have  in  stock." 

"You  are  good  to  me,  dear.  But  I  can  never  spend 
all  that." 

"  If  you've  any  balance  you  find  unwieldy,  buy  Cascaes 
a  smile  with  it,  if  you  can  find  one  that  will  fit.  No,  seri- 
ously, old  lady,  you  will  be  marrying  a  rich  man,  although 
you  did  not  know  it  when  you  took  him,  and  you  may  as 
well  get  used  to  spending.  It's  no  use  for  us  preparing  to 
save." 

"  No  use  preparing  to  save,"  poor  Laura  repeated  mis- 
erably to  herself.  "  There  will  be  no — no  one  except  our- 
selves to  look  forward  to."  But  she  said  nothing  of  this 
aloud.  She  just  thanked  him,  and  snuggled  in  to  his 
shoulder  and  patted  his  sleeve. 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  283 

Far  away  over  the  corner  of  the  isle  a  steamer  hooted 
in  the  harbor  of  the  Isleta,  and  the  sound  came  to  them 
dimly  through  the  foliage  plants.  Carter  looked  at  his 
watch.  "  Hullo,  I  must  go,  or  the  criminal  who  drives 
my  tartana  will  flog  that  poor  beast  of  a  mule  to  death 
in  his  effort  to  catch  the  boat.  So  now,  Miss  Slade,  just 
please  give  me  a  sample  of  your  best  good-bye." 

Twilight  does  not  linger  in  the  summer  months,  even  so 
far  north  as  Grand  Canary.  The  sun  was  balanced  in 
lurid  splendor  on  the  rocky  backbone  of  the  isle  as  Carter 
said  his  last  words  of  farewell,  making  the  dead  volcanoes 
look  as  though  at  a  whim  they  could  spring  once  more 
into  scarlet  life.  It  was  dark  when  he  got  on  the  road, 
and  the  evening  chill  rode  in  on  the  Trade.  The  mouse- 
colored  tartana  mule  sneezed  as  he  pressed  his  galled 
shoulders  into  the  collar. 

Carter  wedged  himself  in  a  corner  of  the  carriage  and 
resolutely  looked  on  life  with  a  reckless  gayety.  After  all, 
what  was  this  ache  called  Love?  To  the  devil  with  it! 
Hereafter  he  would  eat,  and  drink,  and  work,  especially 
work,  and — well,  Laura  was  a  good  sort,  and  he  intended 
to  play  the  game,  and  please  her.  He  had  given  his  word 
to  Laura,  he  forgot  exactly  why,  but  he  had  given  it,  and 
that  was  enough.  For  good  or  evil  he  was  one  of  those 
dogged  Englishmen  who  keep  to  a  promise  that  had  once 
been  given. 

Then  with  an  equal  doggedness  he  thrust  all  these  things 
from  his  mind,  and  resolutely  clamped  down  his  thoughts 
to  Tin  Hill  and  the  details  of  its  working.  No  news  had 
reached  him  of  the  importance  which  the  freakish  British 
public  had  placed  upon  his  little  arrangement  about  that 
detail  of  the  human  sacrifices.  He  saw  himself  merely  as 
an  unknown  business  man  who  in  the  near  future  would 
be  able  to  sway  a  thing  which  at  present  he  knew  nothing 


284  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

about,  and  that  was  the  tin  market.  The  idea  uncon- 
sciously fascinated  him.  He  had  no  enmity  against  the 
present  producers  of  tin,  did  not  know  indeed  who  they 
were,  but  he  smiled  grimly  as  he  thought  of  the  way  in 
which  presently  he  would  govern  them.  It  was  the  lust  for 
power,  which  is  latent  in  so  many  men,  leaping  up  into 
life. 

The  brilliant  stars  shone  down  on  him  from  overhead, 
and  the  cool  Trade  carried  to  him  salt  odors  of  the  sea, 
but  they  got  from  him  no  attention.  His  mind  was  jour- 
neying away  in  the  African  bush,  on  spouting  river-bars, 
in  offices,  on  metal  exchanges.  .  .  . 

He  was  roused  from  these  dreams  with  much  sudden- 
ness. In  his  up  country  journeying  in  Africa  he  had  de- 
veloped that  animal  instinct  for  the  nearness  of  danger 
which  is  present  in  us  all,  but  in  nine  hundred  and  ninety- 
nine  men  out  of  the  thousand  becomes  atrophied  for  want 
of  use.  In  the  river  villages  the  natives  had  given  him 
a  name  which  means  Man-with-eyes-at-the-back-of-his- 
head. 

It  was  this  slightly  abnormal  sense  that  sprang  into 
quick  activity,  and  Carter  made  so  sudden  a  stoop  that  his 
face  smacked  against  the  shabby  cushions  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  tartana.  But  simultaneously  he  turned  and 
clutched  through  the  night,  and  seized  a  wrist,  and  held  it 
with  all  his  iron  force.  A  moment  later  he  found  with 
his  other  hand  that  the  wrist  was  connected  with  a  long 
bright-bladed  knife,  so  he  twisted  it  savagely  till  that 
weapon  fell  onto  the  dirty  carpet  on  the  floor.  And  all 
the  time,  be  it  well  understood,  no  sounds  had  been  ut- 
tered, and  the  mouse-colored  mule  jogged  steadily  on  with 
the  tartana  through  the  dust  and  the  night. 

Then  Carter  began  to  haul  in  on  the  wrist,  and  the  man 
to  whom  it  was  attached  came  over  into  the  body  of  the 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  285 

vehicle,  bumping  his  knees  shrewdly  against  the  wheel- 
spokes  en  route. 

"Ah,  Cascaes,  that's  you,  is  it?  And  I  thought  once 
you  claimed  to  be  a  gentleman,  and  agreed  not  to  go  at 
me  from  behind?  Well,  I'm  afraid  there's  only  one  kind 
of  medicine  that  will  suit  you,  and  that's  the  band  one 
gives  to  dogs  that  turn  treacherous.  Have  you  got  any 
suggestions  to  make  ?  " 

The  Portuguese  held  his  tongue. 

"  Eeady  to  take  your  gruel,  are  you  ?  Well,  I  propose  to 
give  you  a  full  dose.  Hi  there,  driver,  pull  up.  Wake, 
you  sleepy  head!  What  is  it?  Why,  I've  picked  up  a 
passenger  whilst  you've  been  nodding,  and  now  we  want  to 
get  down  for  a  minute.  Here,  give  me  your  whip." 

Carter's  arm  was  lusty  and  his  temper  raw.  Moreover, 
the  whip,  being  the  property  of  a  Las  Palmas  tartana 
driver,  was  made  for  effective  use. 

"  I  may  not  cure  you,"  said  Carter  between  thumps, 
"of  a  taste  for  cold-blooded  assassination,  but  I'm  going 
to  make  the  wearing  of  a  coat  and  breeches  an  annoyance 
to  you  for  the  next  three  weeks  at  any  rate."  After  which 
statement,  as  the  whip  broke,  he  flung  the  patient  into  the 
aloe  hedge  at  the  side  of  the  road,  got  back  into  the  tartana 
and  told  the  driver  to  hurry  on  to  the  Isleta,  or  they'd 
miss  the  boat. 


CHAPTEE  XX 

MAJOR    MEREDITH 

"  THE  Liverpool  Post"  said  Mrs.  Craven,  "  allows  itself 
to  hint  gently  that  you've  been  rather  persecuting  Mr.  Car- 
ter, Kate.  Now,  I  don't  call  the  Post  a  sensational  paper, 
nor  is  it  given  to  introducing  personal  matters,  as  a  rule." 

"  I  wish  it  would  mind  its  own  business  and  leave  mine 
alone,"  said  Kate  crossly. 

"  '  The  oppression  of  nations  or  individuals,'  "  read  Mrs. 
Craven,  " e  may  begin  by  being  a  matter  of  merely  domes- 
tic importance,  but  when  it  assumes  sufficient  dimensions 
it  forces  itself  into  public  notice.' " 

"  Do  they  couple  my  name  with  that  ?  " 

"  They  leave  you  to  do  that  yourself,"  said  the  old  lady 
dryly. 

"  Well,  I  don't  mind.  They  may  say  what  they  like. 
I'm  entirely  within  my  rights." 

"  The  Post  admits  that.  Here,  I'll  read  you  what  it 
says,  my  dear.  '  Mr.  George  Carter,  whose  name  has  been 
so  prominently  before  the  public  of  late  in  connection  with 
his  splendid  efforts  in  winning  over  the  King  of  Okky  to 
the  side  of  humanity,  has  himself  been  the  victim  of  some 
very  high-handed  oppression.  He  has  discovered  a  most 
valuable  vein  of  tin  in  a  part  of  the  back  country  where 
no  European  explorer  had  ever  trod  before,  and  with  toil 
and  care,  and  in  fact  with  genius,  had  brought  cargo  after 
cargo  of  the  valuable  ore  down  mysterious  African  creeks 
and  rivers  to  a  spot  where  the  ocean  steamers  could  con- 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  287 

veniently  ship  it.  To  be  precise,  he  hired  from  Messrs. 
Edmondson's  small  factory  on  the  Smooth  River  a  piece 
of  waste-cleared  ground,  dumped  his  ore  on  that  as  he 
towed  it  tediously  down  those  unknown  creeks  in  a  string 
of  dugouts,  and  there  let  it  accumulate  so  as  not  to  flood 
the  markets,  and  cause  ruin  to  the  tin  industries  in  Eng- 
land—' Shall  I  go  on?" 

"  Please  do,  Aunt." 

" '  But  presently  an  interviewer  arrived  in  the  shape  of 
a  well-known  firm  of  West  African  merchants  and  finan- 
ciers, who  hought  out  Messrs.  Edmondson's  interest  in 
their  Smooth  River  factory,  found  that  Mr.  Carter  had 
no  lease,  and  gave  him  notice  to  quit  within  forty-eight 
hours.  As  an  alternative  to  removal  they  demand  an 
annual  rent  which  amounts  to  more  than  fifteen  per  cent, 
of  the  value  of  the  ore  stacked  there.  In  other  words, 
they  are  endeavoring,  in  a  manner  that  almost  smacks  of 
piracy,  to  force  themselves  into  partnership  with  him/ '; 

"  Sneak,"  said  Miss  O'Neill,  "  to  go  and  tittle-tattle  to 
the  papers  like  that." 

Mrs.  Craven  looked  at  the  girl  over  her  spectacles,  and 
then  said  she,  "  Wait  a  minute  till  I  read  you  a  little  more. 
'  We  should  add  that  what  gives  these  proceedings  a  more 
unpleasant  flavor  than  would  appear  at  first  sight  is  the 
fact  Mr.  Carter  is  unable  to  defend  himself.  He  had  left 
West  Africa  when  action  was  first  taken,  and  it  has  been 
discovered  that  he  was  still  in  ignorance  of  what  had  oc- 
curred when  his  steamer  called  at  Las  Palmas.  The  whole 
thing  will  be  sprung  upon  him  with  a  shock  of  unpleasant 
surprise  when  he  lands  in  Liverpool  to-morrow.' '; 

"  Ah,"  said  Kate. 

Mrs.  Craven  folded  the  paper,  stood  up,  and  walked 
towards  the  door.  "  As  usual,  my  dear,  you  have  carried 
out  your  plan  very  perfectly." 


288  KATE    MEREDITH,   FINANCIER 

"What  plan?"  asked  Kate  incautiously. 

"  Of  treating  Mr.  Carter  so  badly,"  said  Mrs.  Craven, 
turning  the  handle,  "  that  presently  when  he  hits  you  back 
you  will  be  able  to  bring  yourself  to  hate  him.  But  then 
you  are  always  successful,  Kitty  dear,  in  everything  you 
set  your  hand  to — tryingly  successful  sometimes,"  Mrs. 
Craven  added,  and  went  out,  and  shut  the  door  softly  be- 
hind her. 

Kate  nodded  at  the  door.  "  Aunt  Jane,"  she  said 
viciously,  "  there  are  moments  when  you  are  a  perfect  cat. 
But  I  will  make  him  detest  me  for  all  that,  and  then  I  can 
truly  and  comfortably  hate  him.  It's  all  very  well  their 
calling  him  a  martyr.  Why  should  everybody's  feelings 
be  consulted  except  mine  ?  " 

All  the  same,  Kate  bowed  in  a  certain  degree  to  public 
sentiment.  One  thinks  also  that  she  had  not  toughened 
herself  sufficiently  to  meet  Carter  face  to  face.  Anyway, 
she  discovered  that  urgent  affairs  called  her  to  London, 
and  whirled  off  Aunt  Jane  to  her  flat  that  very  night. 
She  left  Crewdson  to  fight  the  invader  when  he  landed 
in  Liverpool,  and  gave  the  old  man  definite  instructions  in 
writing  that  he  was  not  to  budge  an  inch  from  the  firm's 
rights.  "  Show  Mr.  Carter  this  letter,"  she  ordered,  "  if 
there  is  the  least  occasion  for  it." 

But  it  seemed  that  West  Africa  pursued  her.  The  tele- 
phone rang  as  soon  as  she  got  to  the  flat. 

"That  London?  That  Miss  Head?  This  is  Liverpool, 
Crewdson.  London't  just  been  calling  you  up.  Will  you 
ring  Four-owe-seven-three  Pad.  What's  that  ?  No.  Four- 
naught-seven-three  Pad.  Yes,  that's  it.  Good-night, 
Miss." 

Kate  had  more  than  half  a  mind  to  let  4,073  Pad  alone. 
She  was  tired,  and  somehow  in  spite  of  all  her  successes 
she  was  a  good  deal  dispirited.  The  British  public  had 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  289 

bought  no  less  than  four  great  rubber  companies  that  she 
had  offered  them ;  the  shares  were  all  at  a  premium ;  every- 
body was  pleased ;  and  she  had  transferred  her  own  profits 
safely  into  land  and  trustee  securities.  Since  her  first 
burst  of  success,  money  had  simply  rolled  in  on  her,  and 
already  it  had  ceased  to  give  her  amusement.  Success  lay 
sour  in  her  mouth.  She  asked  Fortune  for  just  one  thing 
more.  Because  she  was  a  woman  she  could  not  go  and  get 
it  for  herself.  She  told  herself  that  it  was  only  a  con- 
vention that  held  her  back — but  she  shuddered  and  chilled 
all  over  at  the  thought  of  breaking  that  convention. 

She  sat  in  a  deep  soft  chair,  twisting  her  long  gloves 
into  a  hard  string,  and  staring  into  the  glow  of  the  fire, 
and  then  with  a  "  Faugh  "  at  her  own  weakness,  she  threw 
the  gloves  onto  the  fender,  and  walked  across  to  a  telephone 
that  stood  on  a  side-table. 

"  Four-owe-seven-three  Pad,  please.  No,  Forty-seventy- 
three  Paddington.  Yes.  Hullo?  Hullo?  Is  that  Four- 
nought-seven-three?  This  is  Miss  O'Neill.  Liverpool  rang 
up  to  say  you  wanted  to  speak  to  me.  Who  is  that, 
please  ?" 

"  No  one  you  know,"  came  in  the  small  clear  voice  of  the 
telephone.  "  One  of  those  sort  of  people  who  writes  let- 
ters to  the  papers  above  some  such  signature  as  'Well- 
Wisher/  " 

"  If  you  don't  give  me  your  name/'  said  Kate  sharply, 
"  I  shall  ring  off." 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  when  I  tell  you  I'm  going  to 
give  you  some  news  about  your  father." 

"  My  father  unfortunately  is  dead.  You've  got  hold  of 
the  wrong  Miss  O'Neill." 

The  telephone  laughed.  "  Not  a  bit  of  it,  it's  the  lady 
who  is  known  generally  as  Kate  O'Neill  I'm  speaking  with, 
but  whose  real  name  is  Katherine  Meredith." 


290        SATE  MEKEDITH,  FINANCIEK 

Now  Kate  knew  that  Mrs.  Craven  was  only  "  Aunt  Jane  " 
by  courtesy  and  adoption,  and  had  naturally  wondered 
many  times  over  who  her  real  people  might  have  been. 
She  had  always  been  a  very  practical  young  woman,  and 
had  not  worried  herself  unduly  over  the  matter;  but  still 
being  human,  she  had  her  share  of  curiosity,  and  though 
the  subject  had  always  been  strictly  taboo  at  the  house  in 
Princes'  Park,  still  that  did  not  hinder  her  from  discussing 
it  with  her  own  thoughts.  And  now,  "  Katherine  Mere- 
dith!" 

"  I  think  you  had  better  tell  me  who  you  are/'  she  said 
to  the  telephone. 

"I  prefer  anonymity.    Do  you  know  Day-Pearce?" 

rt  No.  Yes,  perhaps  I  do,  if  you  mean  Sir  Edward  Day- 
Pearce,  the  West  African  man.  I  don't  know  him  per- 
sonally." 

"All  the  better/'  rasped  the  telephone.  "Anyway,  he 
is  lecturing  to-night  in  a  non-Conformist  temple  in  West- 
bourne  Grove — the  Athenaeum,  they  call  it.  Begins  at 
eight.  He's  certain  to  say  something  about  Meredith.  I 
should  try  to  go  if  I  were  you." 

"  I  shouldn't  dream — "  Kate  began,  when  whizz  west 
the  bell,  and  she  was  cut  off.  She  rang  again,  got  the  in- 
quiry office,  found  that  4,073  was  a  hairdresser's  shop, 
once  more  got  4,073,  spoke  to  the  proprietor,  learned  that 
the  telephone  had  been  hired  for  an  hour  by  a  gentleman 
who  had  some  business  to  transact.  No,  the  gentleman 
had  just  gone.  No,  they  didn't  know  who  he  was:  never 
seen  him  before — Miss  O'Neill's  ring  off  had  a  touch  of 
temper  in  it. 

She  went  back  to  the  deep  soft  chair  and  tried  to  bring 
her  thoughts  once  more  to  the  subject  that  had  been  in 
hand  before  the  interruptions  came.  She  was  a  business 
woman,  and  had  trained  herself  to  concentrate  the  whole 


KATE   MEREDITH,   FINANCIEK  291 

of  her  mind  on  any  matter  she  chose.  But  somehow  those 
two  little  words  "  My  father  "  kept  cropping  up ;  and  pres- 
ently she  began  trying  to  picture  what  her  mother  was 
like.  She  went  to  the  telephone  and  called  up  a  theatre 
agency.  She  had  to  say  three  times  over  "  Athenaeum—  - 
Westbourne  Grove"  before  the  young  man  at  the  other 
end  grasped  the  name,  and  she  was  rewarded  by  hearing 
him  laugh  as  he  said  he  had  no  seats  for  Sir  Edward  Day- 
Pearce's  lecture  that  evening. 

"  Where  can  I  get  one  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  At  the  door,  madam/'  was  the  polite  response.  "  I 
believe  the  prices  of  entrance  are  threepence,  sixpence,  and 
one  shilling,  unless  you  happen  to  be  a  subscriber." 

Supposing  the  whole  thing  were  a  hoax  to  draw  her 
there,  and  by  some  means  to  make  her  look  ridiculous? 
It  was  quite  likely.  She  was  a  successful  woman,  and  had 
already  learned  that  one  of  the  prices  of  success  is  the  spit- 
ting of  spite  and  envy.  But  difficulties  did  not  often  stay 
long  in  the  path  of  Miss  Kate  O'Neill.  She  picked  up  a 
telephone  directory,  turned  the  pages,  found  a  number, 
called  it  up,  and  made  certain  arrangements.  Thereafter 
she  dressed,  dined,  and  took  Mrs.  Craven  to  laugh  over 
the  new  piece  at  the  Gaiety. 

But  poor  Kate  found  even  the  Gaiety  dull  that  night. 
There  was  a  man  on  the  stage  with  a  red  head.  He  was 
not  in  the  least  like  Carter  either  in  looks,  speech,  or  man- 
ner, but — well,  it  must  have  been  the  hair  which  persisted 
in  calling  up  that  unpleasant  train  of  thought  which  kept 
her  vaguely  irritated  throughout  all  the  evening. 

There  was  a  bundle  of  type  script  waiting  for  her  when 
she  got  back  to  the  flat,  which  happened  to  be  the  verbatim 
report  of  Sir  Edward  Day-Pearce's  lecture  which  she  had 
arranged  that  two  stenographers  should  go  and  take  down 
for  her,  but  she  did  not  choose  to  open  this  before  the  keen 


292  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

eyes  of  Aunt  Jane.  Instead  she  waited  till  that  astute  old 
lady  should  see  fit  to  go  to  bed,  and  watched  her  eat  sand- 
wiches, drink  a  tumbler  of  soda-water  lightly  laced  with 
whiskey,  and  listened  to  a  resume  of  all  the  other  plays 
that  had  filled  the  Gaiety  boards  since  the  house  was 
opened.  At  the  end  of  which  Kate  had  the  final  satisfac- 
tion of  being  laughed  at. 

"  You've  been  itching  to  be  rid  of  me  ever  since  we  got 
back,  my  dear,  and  as  a  general  thing  you  don't  in  the  least 
mind  saying  when  you  want  to  be  alone.  I  wonder  what's 
in  those  mysterious  papers  you're  so  anxious  I  shouldn't 
ask  about.  Good-night,  Kitty  dear." 

"  Good-night,  Aunt  Jane/'  said  Kate,  and  opened  the 
package. 

The  lecture  was  unexciting.  It  was  the  dull  record  of 
a  dull  but  capable  man,  who  knew  his  work  thoroughly, 
did  it  accurately,  and  in  the  telling  of  it  left  out  all  the 
points  that  were  in  the  least  picturesque  or  interesting. 
Sir  Edward  had  spent  half  a  lifetime  in  Colonial  ad- 
ministration, and  the  only  times  he  rose  into  anything 
approaching  eloquence  was  when  he  had  to  tell  of  some 
colonial  interest  that  was  ruthlessly  sacrificed  by  some  ig- 
norant official  at  home  for  the  sake  of  a  vote  or  a  fad. 
Four  several  instances  he  gave  of  this,  and  these  stood 
out  warmly  against  the  gray  background  of  the  rest  of  the 
speech. 

But  to  Kate,  who  knew  her  West  Africa  by  heart,  it  was 
all  dull  enough  reading  till  he  came  to  almost  the  last 
paragraph. 

"  It  is  by  a  peculiar  irony,"  the  type  report  read  "  that 
an  agreement  should  recently  have  been  come  to  by  which 
the /notorious  King  of  Okky  promises  to  discontinue  his 
practice  of  human  sacrifice.  It  is  six-and-twenty  years 
since  I  first  went  out  to  West  Africa,  and  my  immediate 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEK  293 

superior  then  was  Major  Meredith.  He  was  a  man  of 
the  highest  ideals,  and  we  all  thought  of  tremendous  capa- 
bilities. He  saw  what  was  wanted  on  the  spot,  and  carried 
out  his  theories  with  small  enough  regard  for  ignorant 
criticism  at  home.  By  the  exercise  of  tremendous  personal 
influence,  and  at  a  fearful  risk,  he  made  his  way  to  Okky 
City  itself,  saw  its  unspeakable  horrors,  and  made  a  treaty 
with  the  then  king.  In  return  for  certain  concessions  the 
king  was  to  come  under  British  protection,  and  of  course 
give  up  objectionable  practices.  Well,  I  don't  know 
whether  there  are  any  of  the  Anti-British  party  here,  but 
I  daresay  most  of  you  will  think  that  the  addition  of  a 
quarter  of  a  million  of  square  miles  of  rich  country  to  the 
empire  was  no  mean  gift.  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  you  lit- 
tle know  what  the  Government  was  then.  '  Perish  West 
Africa '  was  one  of  their  many  creeds,  and  with  Exeter — " 
[here  the  reporter  had  written  the  word  "Disturbance," 
and  evidently  missed  the  next  few  sentences] — "  I  don't 
care  whether  you  like  it  or  whether  you  are  decently 
ashamed,  the  thing's  true.  They  refused  to  ratify  the 
treaty,  and  my  poor  chief  was  censured  for  exceeding  in- 
structions. Well,  the  backers  of  the  high-minded  poten- 
tate, as  I  believe  they  called  themselves,  got  their  way, 
and  I  wish  they  were  not  too  ignorant  to  realize  what  their 
mean  little  action  caused  in  human  lives.  Putting  the 
human  sacrifice  in  Okky  City  at  the  very  low  estimate  of 
eight  thousand  a  year,  in  five-and-twenty  years  that  brings 
the  figure  up  to  two  hundred  thousand  black  men  and 
women  whose  blood  lies  at  the  door  of  those  unctuous  hypo- 
crites who  made  it  their  business  to  break  Major  Meredith 
because  he  was  an  Imperialist." 

Again  the  reporter  put  in  the  word  "  Disturbance,"  but 
he  apparently  managed  to  catch  the  next  sentence.  "  Aye, 
you  may  yap,"  the  old  administrator  went  on,  "  and  I 


294  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

dare  say  from  the  snug  looks  of  some  of  you  you're  own 
sons  of  the  men  who  did  it,  and  I  hope  you  feel  the  weight 
of  their  bloodguiltiness.  Two  hundred  thousand  lives, 
gentlemen,  and  all  thrown  away  to  pander  to  the  fads  of 
some  ignorant  theorists  who  had  never  been  beyond  the 
shores  of  England.  If  Major  Meredith  could  have  held 
out  against  the  clamor,  I  believe  that  he  would  have  been 
a  man  to  stand  beside  Clive,  and  Rhodes,  and  Hastings,  in 
the  work  he  would  have  done  for  the  Empire ;  but  as  it  was 
he  left  the  service  in  disgust,  and  drifted  away  into  the 
savage  depths  of  that  Africa  he  knew  so  well,  and  had  so 
vainly  tried  to  help.  His  wife  went  with  him,  and,  so  I 
heard,  bore  him  a  daughter  before  she  died.  A  rumor 
reached  me  that  some  trader  brought  the  child  to  England 
and  adopted  her,  but  poor  Meredith — well,  he  has  disap- 
peared from  the  record.  .  .  ." 

The  lecture  closed,  a  few  paragraphs  farther  on,  again 
with  "  Disturbance." 

Kate  folded  the  sheets  and  put  them  on  the  table.  She 
was  somehow  conscious  of  a  queer  thrill  of  elation.  One 
of  the  discomforts  that  an  adopted  child  who  does  not 
know  her  history  must  always  carry  through  life,  is  the 
feeling  of  having  been  bred  of  parents  that  were  probably 
discreditable.  She  had  vague  memories  of  her  babyhood. 
There  was  a  village  of  thatched  houses  and  shade  trees. 
She  had  clear  recollection  of  one  day  playing  in  the  dust 
with  the  village  dogs  and  the  other  babies — black  babies, 
they  were — when  a  huge  spotted  beast  sprang  amongst 
them,  roared,  and  for  a  moment  stood  over  her,  the  white 
baby.  At  intervals  she  had  dreamed  of  that  beast  ever 
since.  From  maturer  knowledge  she  knew  it  must  have 
been  a  leopard,  and  leopards  do  not  grow  beyond  a  certain 
normal  size.  But  in  dreamland  that  leopard  was  always 
enormous.  .  She  could  never  remember  whether 


KATE    MEKEDITH,    FINANCIER  295 

in  the  dusty  village  street  under  the  heat  and  the  sunshine 
it  had  done  damage,  or  whether  the  pariah  dogs  had  fright- 
ened it  away. 

Try  how  she  would,  she  could  remember  no  mother. 
The  women  of  the  village  were  all  black,  and  she  lived, 
so  faint  memory  said,  first  with  one  and  then  with  an- 
other. She  had  no  clear  recollection  of  any  of  them.  .  .  . 
And,  indeed,  there  might  have  been  many  villages,  because 
there  were  hammock  journeys,  with  a  pet  monkey  riding 
on  the  pole,  and  walls  of  thick  green  bush  on  either  hand 
that  held  dangers.  .  .  .  She  still  had  a  scar  just  be- 
low the  nail  on  the  first  finger  of  her  right  hand  where 
the  monkey  bit  her  one  day  when  she  teased  it. 

But  plainest  of  all  these  dim  pictures  of  the  memory 
was  one  of  a  white  man  who  at  rare  intervals  came  into 
the  scene  and  took  her  on  his  knee.  He  had  iron-gray 
hair  and  beard  which  were  shaggy  and  matted,  and  he 
always  had  a  pipe  between  his  lips  and  a  glittering  eye- 
glass on  a  black  watered-silk  ribbon  for  her  to  play  with. 
Furthermore,  he  always  brought  some  present  when  he 
came  to  see  her,  and  gave  another  present  also,  if  he  was 
pleased,  to  the  black  women  with  whom  she  lived.  It  was 
he  who  hung  round  her  neck  the  Aggry  bead  that  she  still 
had  locked  away  in  the  bottom  tray  of  her  jewel  case. 

She  remembered  this  man  with  a  vague  kindness.  But 
if  Godfrey  O'Neill  cut  her  off  from  him  with  such  com- 
pleteness it  must  have  been  for  some  profoundly  good 
reason.  Uncle  Godfrey  had  been  far  from  squeamish. 
Uncle  Godfrey  in  his  lazy  way  stuck  to  friends  when  every- 
body else  voted  them  far  outside  the  pale.  And  therefore, 
she  had  argued,  the  iron-gray  haired  man  with  the  eyeglass 
must  have  done  something  peculiarly  disgraceful. 

That  he  was  her  father  she  was  entirely  sure.  Occasion- 
ally she  had  tried  to  argue  with  herself  that  she  was  little 


296  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

more  than  a  babe  when  she  saw  him  last,  and  was  no  judge, 
and  that  possibly  the  iron-gray  man  was  her  father's 
friend.  But  something  stronger  than  mere  human  reason 
always  rose  up  in  arms  against  such  a  suggestion. 

Sir  Edward's  halting  lecture  had  roused  up  one  recol- 
lection in  her  head  that  heretofore  had  persistently  eluded 
her.  A  thousand  times  in  those  dreams  of  Africa,  and  the 
hot  villages,  and  the  pet  monkey  with  its  red  seed  neck- 
lace, and  all  the  other  old  dim  scenes,  she  had  on  the  tip 
of  her  memory  the  name  of  the  iron-gray  man  with  the 
eyeglass,  and  a  thousand  times  she  had  missed  catching  it 
by  the  smallest  hair.  In  a  flash  it  came  back — he  was 
Meredith. 

Was  he  alive  still?  She  could  not  tell;  but  that  she 
would  find  out  now.  For  once  she  adjudged  old  Godfrey 
O'Neill  to  be  wrong.  She  was  not  going  to  let  the  discreet 
veil  remain  any  longer  over  a  man  who,  whatever  his 
subsequent  career  had  been,  at  any  rate  was  a  martyr  once, 
and  her  father. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE    FEELING    ON    THE    COAST 

9 

"  WELL,  Carter-me-lad,"  said  Captain  Image,  coming 
into  the  room,  "  they  tell  me  you're  the  most  unpopular 
man  in  Liverpool.  They  want  to  give  you  dinners,  and 
put  your  photo  in  the  papers,  and  hear  you  make  a  speech, 
and  you  won't  have  anything  to  do  with  anybody.  What's 
broke  ?  Tin  troubling  you  ?  " 

"  Oh !  tin's  all  right.  But  I've  got  a  constitutional  dis- 
like to  marching  along  at  the  tail  of  a  brass  band,  that'c 
all.  Besides  I  feel  an  awful  humbug  when  all  these  silly 
stay-at-home  people  insist  on  believing  that  the  one  and 
only  reason  I  went  up  country  was  to  chop  down  old  Kal- 
lee's  private  crucifixion  tree.  Have  a  cigar  ?  " 

"  Not  me  in  here,  me  lad.  I  came  home  from  the  Isl- 
ands with  the  old  M'poso  full  of  passengers,  and  I've 
smoked  myself  half  sick  on  cigars.  I'll  suck  at  a  pipe.  By 
the  way,  I've  got  a  message  for  you  from  Kallee.  The  old 
sinner  came  on  board  himself  when  we  were  lying  off  Ed- 
mondson's  factory  trying  to  get  your  ore,  and  nearly  drank 
the  ship  dry  before  I  could  get  quit  of  him.  Owe-it  Slade's 
been  palming  off  I.O.U.'s  on  him.  He'd  got  quite  a  sheaf 
of  them.  He  says  when  you  marry  Laura  he'll  give  them 
to  you  as  a  wedding  present,  or  words  to  that  effect.  But 
in  the  meanwhile  if  he  can  catch  Slade  he's  just  going  to 
chop  his  head  off  to  prevent  him  putting  any  more  paper 
into  circulation." 

"Well?"       ' 


298  KATE   MEKEDITH,    FINANCIEE 

"  Well,  you  see,  me  lad,  Slade  owes  our  fo'c'sle  shop  a 
matter  of  four  pounds  odd  which  we  can't  collect,  and  he's 
got  a  Holland  gun  of  mine  that  I  shouldn't  really  like  to 
lose.  Besides,  come  to  thinking  of  it,  I  suppose  Laura's 
fond  of  him  anyway.  Couldn't  you  do  something  for 
him  ?  " 

Carter  stared.  "Has  he  left  O'Neill  and  Craven's, 
then  ?  " 

Captain  Image  stopped  down  the  tobacco  in  his  pipe 
with  a  horny  forefinger.  "  Why,  no,  and  you'll  have  to 
pay  to  get  him  away." 

"  But  what  mortal  use  is  he  to  me  ?  " 

Captain  Image's  pipe  worked  hard  and  he  spoke  in  jerks. 
"Kubber  palaver.  Owe-it  Slade's  the  smartest  man  at 
dem  rubber  palaver  on  the  Coast." 

"  Pooh !     That  slackster !  " 

"  That's  where  you're  making  the  usual  mistake.  Slade's 
got  his  faults.  He  wastes  his  money,  he  never  pays  his 
bills,  he  sponges  for  all  eternity,  and  he  makes  out  he  was 
born  lazy.  But  don't  you  believe  him.  Who  got  Miss 
Kate  all  these  rubber  properties  that  she's  floated  off  into 
such  whacking  big  companies  ?  " 

"  Miss  Kate  O'Neill." 

"No  more  than  you  did,  me  lad.  It  was  just  Owe-it 
Slade.  And  to  think,"  Captain  Image  added  with  a  sigh, 
"  I  always  put  that  man  down  as  a  borrowing  waster,  and 
never  even  hustled  him  to  collect  cargo  for  me.  Why,  if 
I'd  known  then  what  I  know  now,  I  could  have  bought 
rubber  lands  through  him,  for  a  half  surf  boat  full  of  gin, 
that  I  might  have  sold  to  a  company  myself,  and  dined 
off  turkey  in  my  own  house  ashore  every  day  for  all  the  rest 
of  my  natural  life.  Why,  my  Christian  Aunt!  I  might 
even  have  married,  if  I'd  worked  him  properly." 

Captain  Image  dabbed  with  his  forefinger  on  Carter's 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  299 

coat  sleeve  and  left  a  print  of  tobacco  ash.  "  You  buy 
up  Owe-it  Slade,  me  lad,  and  not  only  is  your  fortune 
made,  but — well,"  he  added  rather  lamely,  "  you  buy  him 
up  and  just  remember  I  told  you  to." 

"  But — what  were  you  going  to  say  ?  " 

"  Well,"  said  Image  desperately,  "  I  didn't  intend  to 
tell  you,  but  all  up  and  down  the  Coast,  and  in  the  hotels 
in  Las  Palmas,  and  even  in  the  bars  and  offices  here,  the 
boys  don't  like  the  way  Miss  Kate  is  playing  it  on  you. 
It's  all  right  for  a  girl  to  take  to  business,  if  she's  built 
that  way,  but  she  ought  to  play  the  game.  Of  course  the 
general  idea  is,  me  lad,  that  you  and  she  started  sweet- 
hearting  and  had  a  turn-up,  but  of  course  I'm  in  the 
know,  and  I've  called  'em  dam'  liars  every  time  they've 
started  that  tale,  and  told  'em  about  Laura  and  how  you 
were  fixed  up  long  before  Miss  Kate  came  down  onto  the 
Coast.  Why,  Carter-me-lad,  I've  backed  up  my  words 
with  bets  to  that  extent  that  if  you  were  to  marry  the  lady 
now  by  any  kind  of  accident,  I  should  stand  to  lose  what 
with  one  fiver  and  another,  a  matter  of  two  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds." 

Carter  laughed.  "  That  puts  it  finally  out  of  the  region 
of  possibility,  doesn't  it?  I  can't  let  you  lose  a  pile  like 
that.  But  all  the  same  I'm  not  going  to  interfere  with 
Miss  O'Neill.  If  Slade's  useful  to  her,  let  her  keep  him. 
I'm  much  obliged  to  a  lot  of  officious  idiots  for  sympa- 
thizing with  me,  but  really  they're  moving  on  a  lot  too 
fast.  It  will  be  quite  time  for  other  people  to  be  sorry 
for  me  when  I  start  in  to  be  sorry  for  myself.  Besides,  I 
thought  you,  at  any  rate,  were  a  strong  admirer  of  Miss 
O'Neill's?" 

"  I  am,"  said  Captain  Image  patiently.  He  always  flat- 
tered himself  that  he  left  the  more  eloquent  parts  of  his 
speech  at  Sierra  Leone  on  each  trip  north,  and  picked 


300  KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIER 

them  up  again  there  next  voyage  for  vigorous  use  on  the 
Coast.  It  was  his  pride  that  he  conformed  most  suitably 
to  Liverpool's  sedate  atmosphere.  "  I  admire  Miss  Kate 
as  a  lady  more  than  anyone  I  know,  and  if  she  were 
only  twenty  years  older,  and  I  could  afford  it,  I  wouldn't 
mind  going  in  for  her  myself.  But  it's  her  business  ideas, 
as  she  showed  them  over  that  factory  of  Edmondson's, 
that  I  can't  stand.  The  wa)r  she  stuck  up  the  rent  on  you, 
me  lad,  is  the  limit.  Why,  if  that  sort  of  thing  went  on, 
nobody  would  be  safe.  It's  Oil-Trust  morals.  I'm  Welsh 
myself,  but  I  do  draw  the  line  somewhere." 

"  What,  Welsh  ?  "  said  Carter  politely.  "  I  should  never 
have  guessed  it." 

"  I  am,"  said  Captain  Image  with  sturdy  truth,  "  and 
many  times,  look  you,  I  am  proud  of  it.  Which  reminds 
me  that  little  red-bearded  Kettle  that  you  employed  to  run 
your  launch  and  the  mine  is  Welsh  also.  I  don't  want  to 
go  against  a  fellow-countryman  who's  down  on  his  luck, 
but  I  saw  him  with  my  own  eyes  give  old  Kallee  an  illus- 
trated methody  tract  on  bigamy  when  he  was  on  the 
M'poso,  and  if  His  Portliness  finds  anyone  kind  enough 
to  translate  it  for  him,  there'll  be  the  devil  to  pay.  Kal- 
lee's  black,  but  he's  a  king,  and  he's  not  the  kind  to  let 
any  man  tamper  with  his  domestic  happiness.  Now  about 
Slade " 

"  We'll  drop  Slade.  He's  Miss  O'Neill's  man.  If  Miss 
O'Neill  chooses  to  amuse  herself  by  gunning  for  me,  that's 
her  concern.  But  I  don't  shoot  back." 

Captain  Image  shook  his  head  sadly.  "  Well,  me  lad,  if 
you  won't  lift  a  hand  to  help  yourself,  I  don't  see  there's 
anything  more  to  be  said."  He  put  his  pipe  in  his  pocket, 
stood  up  and  prepared  to  go.  "  Oh,  by  the  way,  did  anyone 
tell  you  about  old  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  ?  " 

"Not  dead,  is  he?" 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  301 

"  Lord  bless  you,  .no,  me  lad.  Very  much  the  reverse. 
Look  here,  what  was  your  idea  of  that  man  ?  " 

"In  what  way?" 

"  What  was  he  before  he  became  the  disreputable  old 
palm  oil  ruffian  you  first  knew  at  Malla-Nulla  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  he  was  less  disreputable  once.  He'd  let 
himself  drift,  that's  all.  One  does  get  into  frightfully- 
slack  ways  in  those  lonely  factories." 

"  Did  he  strike  you  as  the  usual  type  of  man  a  factory 
agent's  made  of  ?  " 

"  Why,  no." 

"  Gentleman,  wasn't  he,  or  had  been  once  ?  Always  used 
to  hitch  up  the  knees  of  his  pyjamas  when  he  sat  down; 
spoke  well;  knew  Latin;  could  swear  round  any  man  on 
the  Coast  when  he  was  that  side  out;  and  had  a  pleasant 
way  of  making  you  feel  you  were  dirt  when  the  mood  took 
him  that  way  ?  " 

Carter  laughed.  "He  had  some  characteristic  little 
ways." 

"  Ever  strike  you  he'd  been  a  soldier  once  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  it  did." 

"  Well,  me  lad,  when  I  was  tied  up  by  that  Edmondson 
factory,  a  boat  swung  up  to  my  ladder  and  a  military 
party  stepped  out.  Quite  the  swell,  I  can  tell  you:  nobby 
white  helmet,  hair  cut  with  scissors,  smart  gray  mustache, 
gray  imperial  bristling  underneath  it,  clean-shaved  chin, 
whit  3  drill  coat  with  concertina  pockets,  white  drill  pants 
with  a  crease  down  the  shin,  latest  thing  in  pipe-clayed 
shoes.  If  it  hadn't  -been  for  the  old  trick  with  the  eye- 
glass and  the  black  ribbon,  I  take  my  dick  I  shouldn't 
have  known  him. 

"'Hullo  Swizzle-Stick  Smith,'  said  I,  'you  are  a 
howler.  Whose  kit  have  you  been  robbing  ?  ' 

" '  Captain  Image,'  says  he,  '  allow  me — ar — to  present 


302 

to  you  Mr.  Smith,  a  new  acquaintance.  It  is  not — ar — 
my  wish  to  be  mistaken  for  any  of  your  discreditable — ar 
— pot  companions  of  the  past.'  That  to  me,  and  on  my 
own  deck,  me  lad.  What  do  you  think  of  that  ?  " 

"  I  bet  you  boiled." 

Captain  Image  scratched  his  head  vexedly.  "  The  rum 
part  of  it  is,  I  didn't.  Somehow  I  took  the  man  at  his 
own  valuation.  There  didn't  seem  anything  else  left  to 
do.  He  went  into  my  chart  house,  and  sat  there  as  solid 
as  if  he'd  been  the  governor  of  a  colony  with  six  letters 
after  his  name.  Just  drank  one  cocktail  and  took  three 
swallows  at  it,  I'll  trouble  you,  and  actually  left  a  second 
to  stand  by  itself  on  the  tray.  When  I  handed  him  the 
tobacco  tin  to  see  if  he'd  got  that  frowsy  old  pipe  in  his 
pocket,  I'm  hanged  if  he  didn't  pull  out  a  book  of  cigar- 
ette papers  and  roll  himself  a  smoke  with  those.  Well,  me 
lad,  when  I  remembered  Swizzle-Stick  Smith's  opinion  of 
cigarettes,  you  might  have  knocked  me  down  with  a  tea- 
spoon." 

"He  scared  me  out  of  cigarette  smoking  at  Malla- 
Nulla,"  said  Carter.  "  He  was  pretty  emphatic  over  the 
weak-kneed  crowd  (as  he  called  them)  who  only  smoked 
cigarettes.  But  why  all  this  revolution  in  Mr.  Smith's 
habits?  Did  he  give  any  reason  for  it?" 

"That's  the  amazing  thing,  he  didn't — at  least  not  a 
proper  reason.  He  just  let  me  see  that  the  new  Mr.  S  nith 
— I  got  to  calling  him  Major,  by  the  way — was  no  relation 
to  the  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  that  was,  and  then  went  back 
over  the  side  to  his  boat." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Carter  thoughtfully,  "  he  wanted  the 
reformation  to  be  advertised." 

"  Well,  you  don't  think  I'd  keep  a  choice  bit  like  that  to 
myself,"  said  Captain  Image.  "Naturally  I  spread  the 
news,  though  I  certainly  didn't  tell  all  the  Coast,  as  I've 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEB  303 

told  you,  the  way  that  the  late  Swizzle-Stick  Smith  made 
me  feel  second  man  in  my  own  chart  house.  But  that  man 
doesn't  need  any  advertising;  the  most  genial  drunk 
wouldn't  take  liberties  with  him,  and  you'd  fall  into  call- 
ing him  Major  yourself  if  you  sat  with  him  for  ten  min- 
utes. My  Christian  Aunt!  just  think  what  a  filthy  old 
palm  oil  ruffian  he  used  to  be." 

"  Did  he  give  any  reason  for  pulling  up  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  asked  him  that.  Managed  to  slip  it  in,  you 
know.  And  he  answered  as  dry  as  you  please,  '  Urgent 
private  affairs,  Captain  Image,'  and  then  tagged  on  some 
Latin,  which,  as  he  remarked  would  be  the  case,  I  didn't 
understand.  You  know,  me  lad,"  said  the  sailor  thought- 
fully, "he's  a  gentleman  right  through,  but  I  shouldn't 
think  that  even  in  his  palmy  days  he  was  a  man  who  would 
have  got  on  particularly  well  with  the  people.  A  bit  su- 
perior, I  should  call  it,  with  those  who  hadn't  been  birched 
in  the  same  public  school  where  he  was  birched." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Carter,  "  this  is  another  instance  of 
Miss  O'Neill's  influence." 

"  As  to  that,"  said  Image,  "  I  can't  say,  me  lad ;  but  this 
I  can  tell  you,  the  Major's  what  he  calls  '  sent  in  his 
papers '  to  O'Neill  and  Craven's." 

"  The  deuce  he  has.    What  on  earth  for  ?  " 

"  Can't  tell  you.  Old  Crewdson  gave  me  the  news.  I 
said  to  him  I  didn't  suppose  the  loss  of  Swizzle-Stick 
Smith,  even  now  that  he  had  changed  himself  into  Major 
Smith,  would  make  their  firm  put  up  the  shutters.  But 
Crewdson  wouldn't  take  it  as  a  joke.  He  told  me  Miss 
Kate  was  very  sorry  indeed  to  lose  him,  and  had  herself 
written  to  ask  him  to  come  and  see  her  here  in  England. 
Now,  me  lad,  what's  her  game  in  that  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  know,"  said  Carter  resolutely,  "  and  I  don't 
want  to  know.  As  I  tell  you,  I  flatly  refuse  to  interfere 
in  any  of  Miss  O'Neill's  affairs." 


CHAPTEE  XXII 

A    FISHEKMAN    AND    HIS    CATCH 

THE  fisherman  was  discontented. 

The  reasons  for  his  discontent  were  not  plain  to  the  eye. 
There  had  been  as  good  a  fly  water  as  anyone  could  want ; 
there  had  heen  enough  breeze  to  ruffle  the  surface,  enough 
cloud  to  prevent  glare;  he  had  picked  just  the  right  flie» 
from  his  book  to  suit  the  river,  and  the  fish  rose  freely  to 
them.  He  was  carrying  home  as  fine  a  dish  of  trout  as 
any  man  could  wish  for,  and  had  scrupulously  thrown  back 
everything  under  ten  and  a  half  inches.  But  even  these 
things  did  not  please  him.  He  sucked  hard  at  his  cold 
pipe,  and  bit  at  fate  as  he  tramped  on  inn-wards  through 
the  gathering  dusk. 

He  came  to  a  cross-roads  once,  and  abused  the  Welsh 
authorities  for  not  putting  up  a  sign-post  for  his  guid- 
ance. The  district  was  new  to  him;  indeed  he  had  come 
there  for  that  reason :  he  wanted  to  be  alone  for  these  last 
days  in  England.  He  had  fished  his  way  up  stream  all 
day,  and  instead  of  following  the  water  windings  back 
again,  was  making  his  return  journey  by  road.  And  here, 
it  appeared,  were  three  roads  to  choose  from.  But  he  was 
a  man  of  resource.  He  depicted  mentally  a  map  of  the 
country,  found  the  newly  risen  North  star,  and  got  his 
bearings,  and  then  trudged  on  again  with  confidence  among 
towering  mountains. 

It  was  night  now,  moonless,  chill,  and  dark,  and  the 
mountains  hung  on  either  side  like  great  walls  of  black- 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  305 

ness.  The  road  was  white  and  faintly  visible.  But  for  all 
that  he  had  presently  to  pull  up  sharply  to  avoid  an  ob- 
struction. "  Hullo/'  he  said,  "  a  motor  car."  And  then 
aloud,  "  Anybody  here  ?  " 

A  grumbling  voice  answered  him  from  the  ditch.  "  Yes, 
I'm  the  driver,  and  I'm  here  bathing  my  confounded 
wrist." 

"Had  a  smash?  Can  I  help?  What  is  it?  Bone 
broken  ?  " 

"  No,  only  a  bad  sprain  " — the  man  peered  at  Carter 
through  the  dusk  and  added  "  sir." 

"  Your  car  seems  to  be  standing  up  all  right  on  her 
four  wheels.  How  did  you  get  pitched  out  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  wasn't  that  sort  of  an  accident.  She  was  mis- 
firing badly,  and  then  she  stopped.  When  I  tried  to  start 
her  again,  she  back-fired  on  me  and  I  thought  my  arm 
had  gone.  It's  the  jet  in  the  carburetter  that's  choked,  I 
believe,  but  I  can't  take  the  thing  down  with  one  hand." 

"  I  could,"  Carter  thought,  and  remembered  certain  epi- 
sodes with  his  own  first  motor  boat  in  Africa.  But  he  did 
not  mention  this  aloud.  "  Owner  gone  for  help  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  Yes,  sir.  But  there's  none  round  here.  At  least  there's 
no  such  thing  as  a  mechanic  within  twenty  miles.  A  hay- 
motor  and  a  tow  to  the  nearest  barn  is  the  best  one  can 
expect." 

"Wh -re's  your  tool  kit?" 

"But  do  you  understand  motors,  sir?"  the  man  asked 
doubtfully. 

"  I  had  to.  Just  unship  a  light,  and  hold  it  with  your 
sound  hand  so  that  I  can  see  what  I'm  about.  That's  the 
ticket.  You're  sure  it's  the  carburetter  ?  Tried  your  spark 
and  all  four  plugs  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  both  the  magneto  and  high  tension.    That's 


306  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

all  right.  She's  getting  no  gas;  that's  the  trouble.  It's 
the  gasolene  feed  that's  choked  somewhere.  I  saw  the  fel- 
low that  filled  us  up  this  morning  pour  in  from  a  red-rusty 
tin  before  I  could  stop  him,  and  it'll  be  a  flake  of  oxide 
from  that  jammed  in  the  carburetter  nozzle.  If  you  could 
take  it  down  for  us,  sir,  I'm  sure  it  would  be  a  very  great 
favor." 

"  Wait  a  bit.  Before  we  begin  to  pull  the  car  to  pieces, 
suppose  we  just  make  sure  of  one  or  two  other  things. 
Got  a  stick  or  anything  to  sound  your  gasolene  tank  with  ?  " 

"  Oh,  that's  all  right.  We  haven't  run  sixty  miles  since 
I  put  in  eight  gallons/' 

But  Carter  straightened  out  a  length  of  copper  wire,  un- 
screwed the  cap,  and  sounded  the  tank.  He  pulled  out  the 
wire  and  examined  it  at  the  lamp.  He  wiped  it  carefully 
and  tried  a  second  time. 

"  Moses !  "  said  the  driver,  "  dry  as  a  bone.  Now,  who's 
been  playing  pranks  here?  Must  have  been  some  of  that 
nasty  Welsh  crowd  that  was  hanging  round  whilst  we  was 
having  lunch." 

"Why,  there's  the  union  underneath  the  tank  half  un- 
screwed. That  would  account  for  the  leak,  anyway.  Here, 
hold  the  lamp.  Not  too  close.  Yes,  and  the  vibration  has 
cracked  the  feed  pipe.  There's  a  gap  I  can  get  my  finger 
nail  into.  Now,  first  of  all,  have  you  got  any  spare  gaso- 
lene?" 

"  Yes,  sir.    Two  tins." 

"  Good.  Then  it's  worth  while  mending  this  feed  pipe. 
I  suppose  you  haven't  a  soldering  iron  ?  " 

"Afraid  not,  sir.     There's  rubber  solution " 

"  Which  gasolene  melts.  Here,  let's  go  through  your 
stock.  Ah,  here's  a  tube  of  seccotine.  Now  I'll  show  you 
a  conjuring  trick.  If  we  give  the  crack  three  coats  of  that, 
and  let  each  dry  well  before  the  next  is  put  on —  Good 
Lord!  Kate!" 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  307 

Miss  O'Neill  came  up  out  of  the  darkness  and  bowed. 
u  It's  really  very  good  of  you,  Mr.  Carter,  to  trouble  over 
my  car." 

"  I  didn't  know  it  was  yours.  I  didn't  know  you  were 
in  this  neighborhood.  In  fact  I  did  not  know  where  you 
were." 

Kate  shrugged  her  shoulders.  "Didn't  some  sapient 
person  once  record  that  coincidences  were  the  commonest 
things  in  life  ?  A  minute  ago  I  didn't  know  whether  you 
were  in  England,  or  West  Africa,  or  Grand  Canary;  and 
you  didn't  know  or  care  whether  I  was  alive  or  dead;  and 
here  we  meet  in  the  dark  on  an  unnamed  roadside  in 
Wales.  It's  just  one  of  those  ordinary,  every-day,  impos- 
sible coincidences,  which  the  vogue  of  motor  cars  is  mak- 
ing a  little  more  common  than  usual.  I'm  glad  you're  let- 
ting business  f  'Uerences  sink  for  the  moment." 

"  I  didn't  '  low  it  was  your  car." 

"  Or  you'c  have  bitten  off  your  hand  sooner  than  have 
touched  it  ?  " 

He  laughed  rather  dryly.  "  I'm  afraid  I  should  have 
yielded  to  the  temptation  of  meddling.  You  see,  internal 
combustion  engines  are  rather  a  fad -of  mine." 

"Excellent  reason.  How  long  is  this  ingenious  repair 
going  to  take  ?  " 

"  H'm ;  three  coats  of  seccotine — have  to  allow  each 
twenty  minutes  to  dry — call  it  an  hour.  After  that  I 
think  if  we  couple  up  the  union,  and  put  in  the  spare 
gasolene  your  man  says  he's  got,  you  should  go  sailing  off 
without  a  hitch.  By  the  way,  I  didn't  know  you  mo- 
tored." 

"  I'm  full  of  unpleasant  surprises." 

"  Yes,  Cascaes,  for  instance." 

"  Well,  why  shouldn't  I  open  up  an  O'Neill  and  Craven 
agency  in  Las  Palmas,  pray  ?  " 


808  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

"No  reason  whatever.  I  wasn't  referring  to  Cascaes' 
business  abilities." 

"Wagner,"  said  Miss  O'Neill  to  her  man,  "there's  a 
farm  about  a  mile  down  this  road  where  they'll  bandage 
up  your  wrist,  and  make  you  some  sort  of  a  sling.  Don't 
be  away  longer  than  you  can  help.  Mr.  Carter  and  I  will 
look  after  the  car  till  you  get  back." 

"  Thank  you'm,"  said  the  driver,  and  marched  off  into 
the  night.  They  stared  after  him  till  the  sound  of  his 
footfalls  on  the  hard  road  died  away,  and  then  said  Miss 
O'Neill,  "  Why  doesn't  Mr.  Cascaes  answer  when  I  cable  ?  " 

"  You  can  hardly  expect  me  to  overlook  the  work  of 
your  Las  Palmas  agency." 

"  Don't  quibble.     Do  you  know  why  he  is  silent  ?  " 

"  I  can  make  a  guess." 

"  Well,  go  on." 

"  He's  probably  too  busy  picking  aloe  thorns  out  of  his 
carcass  to  find  time  for  writing  cables." 

"  Oh,  so  you  threw  him  into  an  aloe  hedge,  did  you  ? 
What  did  Laura  say  to  that  ?  " 

"  Well,  as  she  knew  nothing  about  it,  she  naturally  did 
not  comment." 

"I  see ;  and  did  Mr.  Cascaes  object ? " 

"  Not  obtrusively.  He  took  the  best  licking  I  ever  gave 
to  man  or  dog  without  a  whimper,  and  when  I  tossed  him 
amongst  those  aloe  hooks,  he  lay  there  just  as  he  fell." 

"Ah,"  said  Kate,  and  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Keen  on  motoring  ?  "  Carter  asked  after  a  pause. 

"I  am,  yes." 

"  I'm  taking  a  light  four-cylinder  back  to  the  Islands 
with  me." 

"  Let  me  see,  I  promised  you  a  wedding  present,  didn't 
I  ?  Let  me  know  when  it's  for,  and  what  you'll  have.  By 
the  way,  talking  of  coincidences,  I  was  motoring  in  the 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  309 

Yorkshire  dales  a  week  or  so  ago,  and  coining  down  out 
of  Wensleydale  into  Wharfedale,  we  dropped  down  over  a 
perfectly  terrific  piece  of  road  that  cost  me  a  back  tire. 
Well,  unluckily  we'd  used  up  the  only  other  spare  cover 
on  the  car  already,  so  the  only  thing  left  was  to  go  slowly 
on  the  rim  on  into  the  village  below  and  wire  for  another. 

"  Such  a  dear  old  village  it  was,  of  gray  stone  houses, 
tucked  away  under  the  gray  limestone  hills,  with  all  the 
gardens  as  bright  with  flowers  as  you  find  them  in  a  story- 
book. The  parson  saw  us  when  we  came  in  from  skating 
down  that  awful  hill,  and  when  he  saw  me  afterwards 
strolling  round  looking  at  the  flowers,  he  very  nicely  asked 
me  to  go  in  and  look  at  his  roses.  A  splendid  old  man 
he  was,  and  such  gorgeous  roses.  He  likes  big  blooms, 
and  he  snips  off  the  superfluous  buds  on  the  sly,  and  Mrs. 
Parson  likes  lots  of  blooms  to  cut  at  and  to  give  away, 
and  she's  always  on  the  watch  after  him  to  see  he  doesn't 
steal  those  buds.  I  met  her,  too,  and  they  took  me  in  and 
gave  me  tea. 

"  They'd  some  Okky  war  horns  on  the  wall  of  their  draw- 
ing-room, and  I  told  them  I'd  a  very  fine  one  on  mine, 
and  so  naturally  we  got  to  talking  '  Coast.'  They've  a 
son  out  there — or  to  be  more  accurate,  they  had,  because 
he  seems  to  be  in  England  now — and  they're  a  good  deal 
troubled  about  him.  He  keeps  on  making  excuses  instead 
of  going  to  see  them.  Mrs.  Parson,  who  by  the  way  is  a 
perfect  dear,  said  they  were  afraid  he  had  done  something 
foolish  and  was  shy  about  coming  home " 

"Well?"  said  Carter. 

"  Oh,  I'm  pretty  certain  the  prodigal  would  have  no 
trouble  with  her." 

"But  the  Parson?  He  said  nothing  about  providing 
veal,  I  suppose?" 

"  He  did  not.    To  be  precise  he  confined  his  conversation 


310  KATE   MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

to  roses,  and  the  dale,  and  a  very  charming  old  gentleman 
he  was."  . 

"  As  you  may  guess,"  said  Carter  savagely,  "  I  don't 
thank  you  for  going  to  inspect  my  people  like  that." 

"  I  don't  recollect,"  said  Miss  O'Neill  with  much  sweet- 
ness, "  ever  asking  you  to  thank  me.  By  accident  I  stum- 
ble across  some  delightful  people;  I  have  the  opportunity 
of  enjoying  their  society,  and  for  the  sake  of  seeing  more 
of  them  I  lived  in  the  village  for  three  whole  days.  They've 
asked  me  to  go  and  stay  with  them  next  summer,  and  I'm 
going.  I  don't  see  how  that  can  annoy  you,  as  you've 
given  up  going  near  them." 

"  I  think  that  crack  in  the  gasolene  pipe  will  stand  an- 
other coat  of  seccotine  now,"  said  Carter,  and  moved  the 
lamp  and  knelt  once  more  in  the  dusty  road. 

"  It  seems  a  pity,"  said  Miss  O'Neill  musingly. 

"  I  don't  see  what  business  it  is  of  yours  anyway,"  Car- 
ter snapped. 

"  Oh,  but  surely  it's  my  car  that  you're  so  kindly  work- 
ing at.  And  I  do  think  it's  a  pity  you  should  have  all  that 
trouble  with  that  nasty,  smelling,  sticky  seccotine,  when  it 
will  all  have  to  be  scratched  off  to-morrow,  and  the  hole 
soldered  up." 

Carter  laughed  in  spite  of  his  rage.  "  You  didn't  mean 
that  in  the  least,  but  I'll  own  up  you  drew  me  smartly 
enough.  It  is  a  pity — I  mean  the  other  thing — I  love  the 
dale,  and  I'm  about  as  fond  as  a  man  can  be  of  my  people. 
But  when  you're  in  love  with  a  girl,  and  you've  promised 
to  marry  her,  well,  other  things  have  to  slide." 

"Ah,  love,"  said  Kate  thoughtfully.  "I  wonder  what 
being  in  love  is  really  like?  I  must  try  it  some  day  as 
an  experience.  It  seems  to  alter  one's  obligations.  I 
should  like  you  to  hear  my  friend  the  Parson  on  obliga- 
tions." 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEE  311 

"  I  can  tell  you  his  creed  in  the  matter  as  he  taught  it 
to  me  as  far  back  as  I  can  remember.  The  rule,  according 
to  him,  is:  First,  keep  your  word;  second,  go  on  keeping 
it;  third,  don't  let  any  other  considerations  whatever  in- 
terfere with  your  keeping  it." 

"  Spartan,  simple,  admirable,"  said  Kate,  and  then 
could  have  bitten  out  her  tongue  for  sending  the  words 
past  her  lips.  She  took  Carter's  hand  impulsively  enough, 
and,  "  I  beg  your  pardon  for  that,"  she  said.  "  I  may 
think  you're  a  fool,  but  I  know  you  are  also  the  most  hon- 
orable man  alive." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE    SONG    OF    SPEED 

FOR  a  business  woman,  Kate  took  singularly  small  in- 
terest in  her  letters  that  morning,  and  Mrs.  Craven  from 
behind  the  coffee-pot  looked  at  her  rather  wistfully.  They 
were  staying  in  the  Lakes,  and  were  supposed  to  be  motor- 
ing. But  though  the  old  lady  was  vigorous  enough,  and 
was  only  too  pleased  to  bustle  about  from  place  to  place, 
Kate  was  listless,  and  always  had  an  excuse  when  change 
was  suggested.  As  a  reason,  she  said  she  had  been  over- 
working herself,  and  wanted  to  sit  still  and  do  nothing; 
but  she  did  not  believe  this  herself  nor  did  Mrs.  Craven 
believe  it.  Moreover,  Kate  knew  that  Mrs.  Craven  dis- 
believed. 

She  was  a  very  healthy  young  woman  as  a  general  thing, 
but  that  morning  she  ate  a  thoroughly  bad  breakfast,  and 
crumbled  a  slice  of  toast  beside  her  plate  to  give  a  general 
idea  of  performance.  Then  she  threw  her  napkin  on  the 
table,  and  again  went  through  the  envelopes.  There  was 
one  from  the  Liverpool  office.  She  opened  it,  and  drew  out 
half  a  dozen  typewritten  sheets.  But  the  distaste  for  busi- 
ness was  big  in  her,  and  she  was  putting  these  down  with 
the  rest  when  a  name  caught  her  eye. 

Cascaes. 

She  read  the  sentence  surrounding  it.  "  Our  Mr.  Cas- 
caes cables  that  he  this  morning  married  a  Miss  Laura 
Slade,  and  on  her  insistence  hereby  tenders  us  his  resigna- 
tion." 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  313 

Kate  snapped  the  papers  together,  looked  at  her  brace- 
let watch  and  stood  up  briskly. 

"  Aunt  Jane,  I  am  sorry,  but  a  very  important  matter 
has  turned  up  which  drags  me  off  to  Liverpool  for  the 
day." 

Mrs.  Craven  was  a  wise  woman  and  could  read  signs. 
Moreover,  she  had  known  Kate  from  three  years  old,  up- 
wards. "  My  dear,"  she  said,  "  I'm  rejoiced  at  your  news. 
Go  and  make  it  up  with  him." 

Kate  blushed  and  laughed.  "  It  isn't  that  at  all,  aunt. 
Or  only  partly.  But  I  must  go." 

"  There's  no  train  now  till  mid-day." 

"  I  shall  motor  down  to  Carnforth  and  cut  off  the  10.38 
there." 

"  If  you  don't  break  your  neck  in  the  process,  you'll 
land  in  gaol  for  excessive  speed,"  said  the  old  lady ;  "  and," 
she  added  dryly,  "  I'm  sure  you'd  prefer  even  one  of  those 
alternatives  to  staying  sensibly  here  with  me,  and  waiting 
for  a  train  in  the  decent  course  of  things.  There,  run  along, 
Kitty,  and  get  your  things  on,  and  I'll  go  and  incite 
Wagner." 

Miss  O'Neill  went  upstairs  to  her  bedroom  two  steps  at 
a  time,  and  for  the  moment  was  minded  to  drag  on  any 
outer  clothes  that  would  cover  her.  But  then  a  thought 
came  to  her,  and  she  smiled,  and  took  out  from  its  box  a 
Paris  hat  that  she  had  never  worn  before.  She  pinned  this 
into  place  with  infinite  care,  covered  it  and  her  auburn 
hair  with  a  capacious  motor  veil,  and  hung  another  veil, 
which  had  in  it  a  protective  window  of  talc,  over  her  pretty 
face.  And  then  she  put  on  a  great  motor  coat.  She  was 
very  much  guarded  from  the  dust  and  the  weather  exter- 
nally, but  inside  the  ugly  chrysalis  was  as  spruce  a  Kitty 
O'Neill  as  any  man  could  have  sighed  after. 

Wagner,  as  usual  when  he  was  wanted,  had  "  just  gone 


314  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

out "  for  something.  But  Kate  had  an  enthusiast's  knowl- 
edge of  her  that  year's  forty-horse  car.  She  saw  that  both 
electric  and  magneto  ignitions  were  switched  off,  and  then 
she  turned  on  her  gasolene,  flooded  the  carburetter,  and 
applied  herself  to  the  starting  handle.  There  was  a  high 
compression  in  the  engine,  but  she  was  strong,  and  just 
then  she  was  goaded  by  something  which  made  her  put  out 
just  a  fraction  more  (she  thought)  than  the  full  of  her 
strength.  She  filled  the  cylinders  with  gas.  Then  she 
threw  in  the  switch  to  all  the  insulators,  and  the  engine 
started  most  obediently.  She  stepped  into  the  driving  seat, 
collected  her  wraps,  threw  out  the  clutch,  dropped  in  the 
first  speed,  and  let  the  clutch  slide  home. 

The  car  drew  out,  as  if  it  had  been  pulled  by  a  rope, 
and  Kate  flung  a  last  hand  wave  to  Mrs.  Craven.  Then 
she  got  on  to  the  direct  drive  of  the  third  speed,  and  checked 
her  throttle  to  keep  down  the  pace  till  she  was  out  of  the 
traffic. 

"  Six-and-twenty  miles  to  Carnforth,"  she  reckoned, 
"  and  the  train  goes  through  there  in  just  sixty-one  min- 
utes from  now.  Well,  I  should  average  thirty-five  miles 
an  hour  for  the  run,  and  that  will  leave  me  nice  time  to 
find  someone  to  take  charge  of  the  car,  and  buy  a  ticket 
to  Liverpool  for  myself." 

They  pulled  out  of  the  village,  and  Kate  pushed  up  her 
spark  and  throttle  levers  notch  by  notch.  The  purr  of  the 
motor  increased  in  shrillness.  She  drove  often  herself,  but 
seldom  at  high  speeds,  and  just  now,  when  she  got  into 
the  long  empty  stretches  of  straight,  out  of  sheer  exhilara- 
tion she  let  out  the  great  car  till  it  was  wheeling  along  at 
a  good  forty  miles  to  the  hour.  It  swayed  rather  danger- 
ously, but  she  had  no  nerves  to  be  ruffled  by  a  trifle  like 
that.  The  motor  was  giving  out  its  high  note  of  exultant 
speed,  and  she  was  thrilled  with  the  power  she  rode. 


KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER  315 

Woods  and  rocks  flew  by,  mile  after  mile  of  fencing  shot 
astern,  but  still  the  great  car  sang  along  its  way,  now 
bumping  over  a  grip,  now  slackening  a  trifle  on  a  rise. 
The  rhythm  of  the  engines  sounded  in  her  ears  like  a  poem, 
and  she  tended  to  their  needs  with  a  real  affection;  the 
pelt  of  the  air  exhilarated  her. 

And  then  came  the  downfall.  A  whistle  shrieked  out 
from  behind  her,  another  whistle  shrilled  in  front,  and  a 
pol  ceman  sprang  from  the  hedge.  Kate  was  in  no  mood 
for  stopping.  She  tried  to  dodge  round  the  man.  With 
ignorant  courage  he  leaped  across  the  road  to  stop  her. 
She  threw  out  her  clutch  and  desperately  set  her  brakes. 
The  great  car  lurched,  slid,  sidled,  and  all  but  overturned. 
The  policeman,  by  a  marvellous  mixture  of  skill,  presence 
of  mind,  and  luck  on  Kate's  part,  was  not  killed.  But  he 
stood  scorching  his  hand  on  a  very  warm  radiator,  and 
Kate  sat  white-faced  at  the  wheel,  taming  down  her  in- 
sulted engines. 

After  that  there  was  no  hurry.  She  pleaded  a  life  and 
death  engagement,  but  the  majesty  of  the  law  was  ruffled, 
and  saw  to  it  that  all  things  were  done  with  dignity  and  in 
order. 

Kate  was  charged  with  driving  to  the  danger  of  the 
public.  The  road  was  entirely  deserted  just  there,  and 
there  was  no  public,  but  she  admitted  the  crime,  gave  name 
and  number,  and  humbly  asked  to  go.  But  not  a  bit  of  it. 
The  Law  wanted  to  see  her  driving  license,  which  of  course 
she  had  not  got,  and  then  out  came  note-books  and  pencils. 
The  criminal  lost  her  temper,  and  so  the  Law  was  delib- 
erately slow.  .  .  . 

Kate  reached  Carnforth  station  just  three  minutes  after 
the  express  had  left,  and  was  half-minded  there  and  then 
to  give  up  the  chase.  Carter  would  sail  in  the  Secondee  at 
the  appointed  hour,  and  when  he  got  to  Las  Palmas  and 


316  KATE    MEREDITH,    FINANCIER 

heard  the  news  he  would  return  to  her  by  the  next  boat 
She  was  sure  enough  of  that.  But  no,  she  could  not  let 
him  go.  It  might  be  (terrific  thing)  unmaidenly  of  her  to 
thrust  herself  and  her  news  in  his  way,  but  she  could  not 
help  it.  Besides,  a  fear  cramped  her  when  she  thought  of 
Cascaes.  She  had  heard  to  her  horror  of  the  knife  that 
Cascaes  had  wielded  so  undeftly  in  the  dark  along  the 
Telde  road,  although  indeed  Carter  had  made  no  mention 
of  it,  and  she  dreaded  what  might  happen  should  the  cwo 
men  come  together  a  second  time. 

She  looked  at  the  time-table;  there  was  no  train  that 
would  help  her.  If  she  wanted  to  get  to  Liverpool  before 
the  Secondee  sailed,  it  must  be  by  car.  So  once  more  she 
sat  herself  in  the  seat  of  government.  .  .  . 

The  road  held  through  Lancaster  to  Preston,  and  out- 
side towns  and  villages  she  crashed  along  often  at  a  fifty- 
mile  gait  in  her  fear  at  being  too  late.  And  then  came  the 
black  cotton  towns  of  Lancashire  with  their  slatternly 
women  and  shrill-voiced  children  scrambling  over  the 
streets.  She  had  to  slow  to  a  crawl  through  these,  and 
even  then  the  tires  skated  dangerously  over  the  greasy 
streets.  But  speed  triumphed  over  time  and  distance  in 
the  end.  She  swung  at  a  rattling  gait  into  a  Liverpool 
suburb,  and  for  the  third  time  had  her  number  taken  by  an 
indignant  policeman,  and  thereafter  slowed  to  a  dignified 
crawl.  She  glanced  at  her  watch.  With  care  now,  and  if 
no  mishap  blocked  her  progress,  she  would  be  on  the  land- 
ing stage  before  the  mail-boat  threw  off  her  ropes. 

Luck  and  good  nerve  aided  her  bravely  now.  She 
wormed  her  way  rapidly  through  the  increasing  traffic  of 
the  Liverpool  streets,  and  came  to  the  landing  stage  en- 
trance. 

She  patted  her  car  and  gave  it  a  word  of  gratitude.  A 
cabman  took  charge,  and  with  him  also  she  left  motor 


KATE    MEEEDITH,    FINANCIEK  317 

veils,  coat  and  gloves;,  and  walked  down  onto  the  landing 
stage  fully  conscious  of  neat  hair,  a  perfect  frock,  and  the 
Paris  hat.  Carter  was  standing  gloomily  at  the  bookstall, 
with  a  chin  that  looked  more  dogged  and  hair  that  was 
redder  than  ever. 

"Ah,"  she  said  lightly,  "fancy  meeting  you  here. 
Weren't  you  going  by  last  week's  boat  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  heavily,  "  this." 

"  Have  you  paid  for  your  passage  ?  " 

" Yes,  of  course.    Why?" 

"  Because  I'm  afraid  you  will  waste  it." 

He  shook  his  head. 

"  You  had  no  cable  from  Las  Palmas  during  the  last 
two  days?" 

"  No.  Have  you  ?  What  are  you  driving  at  ?  "  There 
was  something  so  pathetic  in  his  brown  eyes  that  she  had 
not  the  heart  to  drag  out  her  explanation  any  further. 
She  pulled  a  letter  from  her  pocket,  marked  a  place  with 
her  thumb  and  showed  it  to  him. 

He  put  a  heavy  hand  down  on  the  bookstall  and  stirred 
the  papers  into  little  heaps.  "  My  God !  Laura  married. 
Married !  Let  me  think  what  this  means !  " 

A  very  indignant  bookstall  keeper  began  to  make  re- 
marks, but  Kate  said,  "  Thank  you.  Those  are  the  ones 
I  want.  Please  tie  them  up  for  me.  Here's  a  sovereign." 
And  then  she  put  a  hand  on  Carter's  arm  and  led  him  out- 
side the  crowd. 

"Well,"  she  said,  "have  you  decided  yet  if  you  are 
entirely  broken-hearted  ?  " 

He  thought  a  minute,  and  then  said  he,  "  I  think  my 
people  will  be  glad  when  they  hear." 

Kate  blushed  rosy  pink.  "  They  are  both  very  fond  of 
me,"  she  observed. 

"That,"  said  Carter,  "is  what  I  was  thinking  about. 


318 

Kitty,  darling,  there  isn't  a  girl  in  all  Africa,  Europe,  or 
America,  who  has  been  loved  as  dearly  as  I've  loved  you. 
But  I  couldn't  marry  you,  could  I,  till  the  way  was  cleared. 
Now,  could  I  ? — here,  let's  get  out  of  this  crowd,  and  hire 
a  cab,  and  drive  to  the  North  Pole,  or  somewhere  we  can 
be  alone  to  talk  all  this  out.  It's  wonderful." 

"  But  what  about  your  baggage  ?  " 

"  Oh,  bother  the  baggage.  White-Man's-Trouble  has  it 
somewhere,  and  he'll  jump  overboard  if  he  finds  I'm  not 
on  the  ship.  There's  no  shaking  off  that  boy,  Kitty  dear, 
so  I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  take  him  along  with  me  when 
you  cease  to  be  Kitty  O'Neill." 

"  George,  do  you  know  I've  got  a  great  secret  for  you. 
I'm  not  Kitty  O'Neill  at  all.  I'm  Kitty  Meredith." 

"  As  a  point  of  fact  I  gathered  that  from  your  father. 
From  what  old  Cappie  Image  told  me,  '  Major  Smith,'  as 
he  calls  him,  will  be  home  in  time  to  give  you  away  on 
your  wedding  day.  But  I  shouldn't  trouble  to  call  yourself 
Kate  Meredith,  if  I  were  you,  sweetheart.  When  you  do 
practise  a  new  signature  let  it  be  Kitty  Carter." 

Kate  blushed  again  most  divinely.  "  As  the  deepest  of 
secrets,  let  me  tell  you  that  I  can  write  it  quite  well  al- 
ready, though  I  have  been  desperately  afraid  I  should 
never  have  the  luck  to  use  it." 


THE    END 


Former  Works  by  C.  J.  Cutcliffe  Hyne 


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